The Poem Is A Vent Poem by RIC BASTASA

now you must
learn what poetry is
alright, you must
agree that it gives
sometimes a sense
of pleasure
where emotions begin
to play in the dark
in the park
it becomes the hallmark
of your freedom
you must have noticed
how the words chosen
are tilted in your favor
because now you are
the master of this
game of truth
and purity
you must know by now
that poetry somehow
is a escape
there are exits in
its structure where
you design your
freedom
your tunnel from that
prison wall of
closed structures
without windows without
light
this is the sense of
selfishness away
from the crowd
away from those
that humiliate you
from those that
knows nothing of you
except your madness
your introversion into the
silent (yet colorful world)
of metaphors
the frogs there sing
the rain does not stop
falling
the rainbows come
bridging that gap
between your
illusion and your
reality
you must know
by now
what all these means
in the most simple term
this is your
kit for survival
a box of words
the most private room
of your
sexy metaphors
your women and your
dreams
your treasures and
your island
your house without
a roof
because all night long
you always want
to see the stars