What Do I Really Feel? Poem by RIC BASTASA

this is the most important
question that i ask to myself
in everything that i do
in everything that happens to me.

that is never your question.
Yours had always been a different
version.
In your philosophy you are more
of a practical person
and you take pride in the
usefulness of each
a bucket, a wheel, a plate
a car, not that kite,
nor that mural, they are not
necessary for the movement
of things to progress.

You are the opposite of what i own.
I own nothing, you claim that everything
is yours. To hold, to have title.

what do i really feel?
you laugh. What is the relevance of that
question to your profits?
You are like my doctor
Who does not mind my pain
but minds his fees.
When a man gets cured
There is no place for sympathy.
It is the money
stupid. You grin.

here we are at the junction of feelings.
I go this way, You go that way.
I will not look for you
You will not look for me.

We then say
How long did we realize that we are
still making a beginning
to this long pretentious affair?

I am an existentialist
but i have never wished you dead.