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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=492892" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Showing The True Color</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">when i wake up this early morning<br>she was not already beside me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i do not want to rise and fold the blanket<br>and go somewhere else.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">or read the papers, or sip coffee, there is<br>this laziness that infects my bones, a disease</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of meaning, another slow day, the routine is<br>eating me, and i behave</div><div style="margin:10px 0">in a manner that i am like a lame duck being<br>aimed at by all the bystanders</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i am opening my eyes, and the ceiling is off<br>white, it has been that way ever since i got married, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">why did i leave it that way? i have the money to have<br>it painted pure white, like a very clean slate where</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i can write what i must mean, but i didn't, i let things<br>that way they are from the beginning, and perhaps</div><div style="margin:10px 0">they will still be at the end. This is what i do next, <br>always always i do this: i rise from my bed, go to my</div><div style="margin:10px 0">circular mirror and look at my face, they also do it, <br>and then i touch my cheeks and chin, feeling the roughness</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of the beard, how they have grown long and so untidy, <br>the razor is ready, and the soap and water, but this time</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i will do what i cannot do the other days of my life, <br>i will not trim the unruly ones, i will not wash my face, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">i may slap myself, and then i give the mirror the grin<br>of the man that is used to all these doubts and shame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i will tell it, i am now myself.And then i will the bathroom<br>another tune for my whistle, nobody, nobody but me.</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=492892" data-title="Showing The True Color de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="when i wake up this early morning she was not already beside me. i do not want to rise and fold the blanket and go somewhere else. or read the papers, or sip coffee, there is this laziness that infects my bones, a disease of meaning, another sl..."></div> </div> </div>
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