what am i murmuring <br />you ask one moment <br /> <br />i have all the excuses <br />and i love it more when <br /> <br />you doubt <br />when you are no longer sure <br /> <br />of what happens next <br />and what follows <br /> <br />this is the mystery of <br />my being <br />and i guess this is what <br />you love <br /> <br />in me, and i never force <br />you to like this piece <br /> <br />this word, this thought <br />it is you that searches <br /> <br />what light is left there <br />what sense <br /> <br />the trail is unfinished <br />but we are here <br /> <br />shall we then go? <br />shall we start talking about this? <br /> <br />a blue sky <br />a yellow sun <br />a green river <br /> <br /> <br />so? there is nothing new <br />nothing about any sophistication <br /> <br />so? why do you stay? <br />are you looking for something missing? <br /> <br />like a key to a door <br />an access word to a website? <br /> <br />like a better half of you <br />precisely what you feel <br /> <br />this emptiness without <br />us.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-is-nice-to-know-that/
