Arriving At An Age
when one does not recognize
anymore: is this night or day?
the 24th of May or the
1st day of July
when the sound of the rain
feels like a whirling electric fan
in a cheap motel
when the sea breeze feels like
another useless trip away from home
when every place looks like the same
like a road stretching far away from your car
one day on a glaring light
and you feel like you are arriving at nowhere
and yet you cannot say the word
'shit! '
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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