What I Cannot Write

what i cannot write
is the answer of the riddle of the sphinx
to me.
i know myself.
hence, i know the answer very well.

i cannot even say it.
thinking about it
shakes my being
like an earthquake
to the foundations
of my house.

i cannot say or write it.

because if i will
everything in me crashes
like September 11.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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