<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=492020" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Pinch</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">i look at my face wrinkles are being drawn like a plow making furroughs<br>on the ricefield, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">wrinkles, i am getting wrinkles, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">i look at my arms and i touch it, they are loose now, like some clothes<br>hanging loosely in my body, emaciated by lack of nutrition, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">i look at my hear, i open it like a pettry cash box, i see some scars<br>and some loose coins for change, i like to break it open and leave<br>it that way, i am saddened by this</div><div style="margin:10px 0">emptiness, this pain, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">i stand now in the mirror with a picture on hand of my youth</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i look many times finding how <br>time drenched me with old age, my hands beginning to tremble my <br>mind forgetting more and more of those memories of my youth, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">i refresh myself, i get this clip and pinch myself, i remember</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i am still alive, and that is luck enough, a friend of mine just died today, <br>cardian arrest, <br>and i am trying to do some little thinking, what if i will be next? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">i am finite, i pinch myself some more, some more, some more.....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">till i turn blue, till i bleed, who cares?</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=492020" data-title="Pinch de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="i look at my face wrinkles are being drawn like a plow making furroughs on the ricefield, wrinkles, i am getting wrinkles, i look at my arms and i touch it, they are loose now, like some clothes hanging loosely in my body, emaciated by lack of..."></div> </div> </div>

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