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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=486394" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Between The Cebu-Bacolod Skyways</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">i like the window<br>this is where i usually sit on my plane rides<br>upon the mountains below<br>the clouds are sleeping as they move<br>like fish<br>they say sleep<br>and yet flow with the movement of the waves<br>and then <br>discover<br>as one wakes up that this is no longer<br>the same place<br>but another set of mountains<br>fencing a new city<br>your destination<br>at night when you arrive there<br>as the plane makes its<br>touchdown<br>you want to find another feeling<br>like you are another driftwood<br>transported anew<br>to another bank of the river</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the feeling is like an old ancestral house<br>you remember<br>the past like all those clouds that you pass <br>by in different shapes<br>back-grounded by a shift of orange<br>and yellow lights<br>until something clears them out<br>blinded<br>or you become a <br>blank piece of paper<br>searching for <br>new words, and yet, and this is sad, <br>it is the same<br>nothing's changed<br>what you want not to meet anymore<br>is there<br>waiting for you<br>and you forge a smile<br>yet no matter what it is as raw as<br>meat with blood still<br>dripping on the side</div><div style="margin:10px 0">time does not subside the<br>pain<br>there is no automatic cure<br>even your <br>escape to other places of <br>your mind<br>your heart will always<br>tell the truth to you<br>in fact....</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q>
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<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=486394" data-title="Between The Cebu-Bacolod Skyways de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="i like the window
this is where i usually sit on my plane rides
upon the mountains below
the clouds are sleeping as they move
like fish
they say sleep
and yet flow with the movement of the waves
and then 
discover
as one wakes up that this is no l..."></div>
</div>
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