What Past Lives Are..... Poem by RIC BASTASA

actually it is all
about self talk

a self talking to yourself
which makes you wonder

how many selves do i have
as you face a cloud of

doubt, a shade of blues and
reds and blacks

and it may seem too
confusing until you get hold

of your hair and hands
holding on to your hands

and you feel discreetly
concretely what is here

what is left of you after
all the winds blow whatever

is not true, whatever is
consuming you

the bitter part is left
and all too enduring

all the sweetness of you
is gone, and you wonder

where to mix again, where
to start, how sweet is sweet

what sweet is sweet,
what past lives are.