Twenty-five years

Strong must these teeth be
Gnashing for twenty-five years
And yet whole and unbroken and sharp

Still willing to bite the dust
To chew pride
To masticate pieces of prejudice
And let the throat know
It must swallow and swallow still

There is so much still to be taken in
There is this thirst of the tongue
This hunger of the mouth
The craving of the stomach

The eyes study the art of waiting
The feet prepare to kick and the arms are ready
For the ambush
Of the enemy

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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