Soul Mate, Are We
when we meet
we feel like we are complete
i am always half of you
and we fuse
how can we ever forget
old stories and how can we ever stop
telling about new ones?
i like to cut this tryst so i can go my way
and you like to do the same
we have scissors in our hands
the sharp shiny ones
yet we keep on going on and on
like we are children
of old longings
we make the daisy chains
and there is no way we can cut the flowers
no way to butt in with the seasons
summer and springtime
night and day
how do we really mind
these ups and downs of pain and bliss?
they always intertwine
always telling us over and over again
that we are one
that we are supposed to be one
this time, this place, these bodies, these minds.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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