You Ask Me To Confess

bewildered about what's going on
outside your world
beyond those veils and curtains
you beg that i confess

what you see in me is what you really are,
and this you ask that
i must confess all my sins
so i can be saved

from what? my silence is asking.
as a friend there are matters to be reconsidered

saving my soul is never any other person's business
i even have to find a location for it when it wants to rest

my silence is a rock in the middle of the river's rage.
there is a black bird there that sings under the whiteness of the clouds
drinking every raindrop
that we do not expect to fall in the middle of a bright day

i need not confess
there are so many poems written and scattered everywhere
that i made

they have mouths and in the corners of the lonely nights
they all sing my own madness

both on sadness and joys,
they have said everything that you badly want to hear.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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