The Stairs....
the stairs show us
a door, and we focus
to the moment when
we arrive at the very
doorstep
anticipating about
a day of an opening
and see finally what is next
what is there
we step upon each
plank
ascend every next
stair
each stair
and the next stair
all the days of our
lives
spending time
with little rest
and sometimes with
nothing at all
sooner we feel
so deceived
having spent so much
time already
ascending
habitually
but not really getting near
that attractive door
and when we notice that
it is too late
our faces have given birth
to all the wrinkles
our heads have grown
all the white hairs
and silences by all means
have sewn our lips
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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