The Suicide That You Think You Deserve...

when you put that bullet
in your heart,
we, who heard the news,
at first listened to
the wild noise of the jackals, and
then we pretend that
no one left
that nothing happened
we are reading the papers
we are focused on the news

we, who are innocent,
do not receive any blot
of guilt,
as usual we do what we have
to do,
slowly, still as gentle as we are,
less still in life, and always well accounted,

we, who are still here,
at the living room,
savor the just taste of your
well chosen silence.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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