today i tell myself <br />that the cover of my favorite book <br />needs a change <br /> <br />perhaps i need some thickness <br />something much like the <br />darker blue in <br />Atlantic ocean <br /> <br />the wings of my imagination <br />can be clipped <br />hide them within a cloak <br />of the pages of <br />this book <br /> <br />i can be like any other <br />normal as they say <br />silent, deep, and alone <br />on a shelf <br /> <br />the dust may come like a <br />desert storm <br />and just like the rest of those <br />who have been here <br />we can be numb and <br />mindless <br />and all accepting <br /> <br />and i guess we may become <br />likeable <br />which we may find disgusting <br />but only for a while <br /> <br />disgust is our real content <br />but who shall like it? <br />we are original in this kind <br />of endeavor <br />but we cannot proclaim it <br /> <br />lest we be burned and then <br />be all forgotten <br /> <br />so for the meantime <br />enjoy our silence <br />savor our concealed presence <br />we are the pages of the book <br />that you read <br />and we have no page <br />not even a single page <br />for a complaint.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-silent-majority-2/
