RIC S. BASTASA
A Poor Mortal Like Me
who does not love beauty?
anything beautiful, be it to the taste or to the touch
will always be desired
a body, a fruit, the sky,
something too near or too distant
if beautiful will always be desired
we wish it can be ours
i desire you,
you are so beautiful to me
i long to touch and kiss you,
but how sad can it be?
you are always a star in the sky
to the stone in my hand.
always a blooming flower
to the autumn of my eyes
you are always a bird with blue feathers perched upon a tree
while i am fenced away on the other side of the hill
my hands are useless, my tongue is dry,
my body is thinning out in grief
Time is teaching me more lessons,
I cannot have what i desire,
Beauty is not always in the reach
of a poor mortal whose hands are too
small like a flea
in the middle of the sea......
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Comments about this poem (A Poor Mortal Like Me by RIC S. BASTASA )
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