<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=471610" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Throne</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I stood amidst a thousand place<br>In a single shifting of a day<br>My legs ached, my knees throbbed -<br>In malcontent and bereavement<br>And my salient stance cringed confounding<br>To muse on too many places in one glance; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the hollow vestibule of churches, <br>The putrid cushion in a bus, <br>The noisy creaking chair in a class, <br>The rocking chair swinging for decadence, <br>The lavish divan in a parlor, <br>The Victorian craft in a banquet, <br>The eiderdown in a perforated cloud; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All were impressed by presences<br>Because to matter, you occupy space<br>And weigh it down with your grace<br>Whilst I stood amongst seated legs<br>Crossed and folded in security<br>Married to a vacant throne<br>Assembled by my agog hands, <br>Lacquered by the hands of time<br>And weighed by the colossal<br>Absence of a queen</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Because to live you have to give life<br>So I stand here, waiting hopefully<br>For someone to take this open hand<br>Of this vacant throne betrothed to<br>The myriad reasons to doubt<br>To have and have not hope</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So I stood amidst the blaring crowd<br>Faster and fastidious than a rose<br>Taking it slowly, unraveling the eternity<br>Of waiting and the artistry<br>Of never effacing the neutral poise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Norman+Santos">Norman Santos</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=471610" data-title="The Throne de Norman Santos" data-description="I stood amidst a thousand place In a single shifting of a day My legs ached, my knees throbbed - In malcontent and bereavement And my salient stance cringed confounding To muse on too many places in one glance; In the hollow vestibule of churche..."></div> </div> </div>

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