T1

every written word
takes away a part of me

i am chipped off
bit by bit

an eyes is missing
an ear is cut off

as i appear before you
my mirror

i become incomplete
because i am always giving

and i walk away
my hair is cut and some locks fall

faraway from misgivings
i sit beside a clear pool of water

there are no ripples
the moon is full

darkness subsides
and then i am full.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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