Poetry Writing

how i can i ever stop
when this act has become my life?

how can i ever tell you
about sleepless nights?

my painful eyes, my bleeding heart
how can i ever tell you
about these parts of me?

let me smile and laugh with you
my poetry shall tell another tale

and whichever is true,
ask the wind and it shall tell you
as my chair, ask my window
and they shall tell you

ask my eyeglasses and see
what i am seeing, try to taste
the salt on the floor,

they may be the residue
of my tears

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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