<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=422029" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Elegy for My Father</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was a boring Saturday afternoon when my father died, <br>I'd been listening to Buddy Holly on the radio and wasting my time, <br>Mucking about with a stanza or two and looking for a rhyme, <br>It was a boring Saturday afternoon the day my father died.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My mother had dementia and couldn't understand<br>That my father was dying and leaving her behind, <br>She thought he'd gone on a journey and she didn't really mind, <br>But she wanted him to come back to her and she didn't understand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What really appals me is that no-one makes a noise, <br>Things happen that shake your heart but nobody beats a drum, <br>We do not even notice when the Angels of Darkness come, <br>And what really appals me is that no-one makes a noise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Camus says 'each of us is born condemned to die' -<br>And I guess it certainly seems that way, <br>You fritter away your time on another boring day, <br>Measuring your life out with Buddy Holly tunes<br>Or pints of beer or even coffee spoons, <br>But I'm sick of all the philosophy and I want to cry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Thorkild+Ellison">John Thorkild Ellison</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=422029" data-title="An Elegy for My Father de John Thorkild Ellison" data-description="It was a boring Saturday afternoon when my father died, I'd been listening to Buddy Holly on the radio and wasting my time, Mucking about with a stanza or two and looking for a rhyme, It was a boring Saturday afternoon the day my father died. ..."></div> </div> </div>

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