The Building....
sometimes he is so concerned about the facade of the building,
asking if the signage is correct,
the color of the paint,
the metal used,
he walks away,
holds his chin,
takes a look again,
and turns his face
smirks,
he sits on the side of the road
fronting the structure
he is silent
and then comes up with a word
but he does not want to say it,
definitely there will be no changes in the facade
she tells him firmly
just like what her mother did to her dad
whom she always called stupid
lazy-bone
good for nothing
male,
he is different
he sees to it that history does not repeat itself this time
he calls the engineer
thru his celfon
'my own decision finally is to demolish the building' he said
with a firm deep voice
like the ocean
he assumes the shape of
the whale
this time.
there will be no other one,
the land must have only space
nothing but space
no one deserves to be
in this place anymore
she commented though
everything is for sale
at the right price.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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