When All The Illusions Are Gone

stripped of our illusions
what are we?

stones on the river
dry leaves on the pavement
rusty fan on storage bins
dilapidated cottages
abandoned houses
desert, bush, turtles
with their backs taken
rabbits without ears
crocodiles without their
teeth

if we let that be.

but there is no need actually of an illusion
because we are real, we touch ourselves,
feel the warmth of our bodies

i try it by simply being myself
less my caprices and whims
less the ambition and the dreams

reduced in the most simple of simpler terms
to the core of it all, i am a happy man
knowing now the limits of my
domains, settling for what is there
nothing more, nothing less

it can be done, illusions are gone.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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