<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=489158" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I Like To Think That All These Are But A Game Of Words</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">that is the impression from the beginning <br>when i started to scribble<br>word, and more words, i assured her that they do not <br>mean anything at all just<br>words, and words and more words</div><div style="margin:10px 0">that even a sunflower wilting and spreading all the seed on her feet<br>are nothing too but words and more words<br>nothing to grow nothing to expect like a sprouting something</div><div style="margin:10px 0">thus my loneliness, i again assure here, is nothing but a word<br>my way of taking solitude on the other side to save myself <br>is another word, and she of course, did not believe me saying</div><div style="margin:10px 0">there is more to these words, there is fire in them and i see you burning<br>there is the sun inside them and the letters glow and the </div><div style="margin:10px 0">there is smoke rising from the heads of vowels <br>from the nonspeaking consonants</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i keep hiding the flowers <br>i bury those that are alive in the silence of my pretensions</div><div style="margin:10px 0">until one day she grips me like she is a knife wanting to stab me<br>and then she stabbed me right in my throat and there i bleed</div><div style="margin:10px 0">words, words, and more words coming from the slit<br>bloody words, and she was convinced, until death, ... and then i vanish.</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> <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=489158" data-title="I Like To Think That All These Are But A Game Of Words de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="that is the impression from the beginning when i started to scribble word, and more words, i assured her that they do not mean anything at all just words, and words and more words that even a sunflower wilting and spreading all the seed on her ..."></div> </div> </div>

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