Remembering...

when all
the ipil-ipil leaves
fall to the ground
because the
bark has
given to the
fangs of
fungus

somehow
the leaves help me
remember:

for instance
those wasted days
of December

opportunities
flying away
because i never
grab them

words that
were uttered
which i never really
mean
but hurting just the
same

so many lovely days
but filled with
lust

great thoughts
squandered like
the anger
for money

so many things
so many fallen souls
rotten selves
unredeemed....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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