<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=491644" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Turning Ten (For Edgar Andrade Baguio who thinks that Poetry should not narrate)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The whole idea of it makes me feel<br>like I'm coming down with something, <br>something worse than any stomach ache<br>or the headaches I get from reading in bad light-<br>a kind of measles of the spirit, <br>a mumps of the psyche, <br>a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You tell me it is too early to be looking back, <br>but that is because you have forgotten<br>the perfect simplicity of being one<br>and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.<br>But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.<br>At four I was an Arabian wizard.<br>I could make myself invisible<br>by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.<br>At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now I am mostly at the window<br>watching the late afternoon light.<br>Back then it never fell so solemnly<br>against the side of my tree house, <br>and my bicycle never leaned against the garage<br>as it does today, <br>all the dark blue speed drained out of it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself, <br>as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.<br>It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends, <br>time to turn the first big number.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It seems only yesterday I used to believe<br>there was nothing under my skin but light.<br>If you cut me I could shine.<br>But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life, <br>I skin my knees. I bleed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">-Billy Collins</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=491644" data-title="On Turning Ten (For Edgar Andrade Baguio who thinks that Poetry should not narrate) de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="The whole idea of it makes me feel like I'm coming down with something, something worse than any stomach ache or the headaches I get from reading in bad light- a kind of measles of the spirit, a mumps of the psyche, a disfiguring chicken pox of..."></div> </div> </div>

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