So What? ....

yes farther
is always the greener pasture,
gotcha
but what?
when you write about it
it is great and
they clap their hands
am so confused
when i start to
talk about
they all leave
one by one
like trickles of
rain
until i am left
with nothing
but your footsteps
on mud

can't figure out
why?
is there is something
wrong with the way
i part my
hair?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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