<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=493663" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>That Night When My Poem Was Stolen</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">that night when my poem was stolen<br>i looked up the sky and saw<br>the moon smiling and the stars winking<br>more beautifully than before<br>and i was wondering <br>the change</div><div style="margin:10px 0">something must be special<br>about what i told them<br>my poem was stolen</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the wind was in a hurry leaving<br>a message that i should have been angry<br>and should have reacted<br>the way other poets do<br>report the matter to the authorities<br>and file the charge<br>of intellectual thievery</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i could have reacted like an angry man<br>deprived of a priced possession<br>but on the other hand<br>i, go beyond what others think, <br>i could be more kind<br>and understanding and more compassionate<br>to thieves<br>i ask: does he like the poem? does he love it<br>so as to steal it? <br>will he sell it? will he keep it throughout his life<br>and treasure it the way i treasure it too? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">in the last analysis, that poem is not really mine too<br>it is God given, a gift during another birthday of<br>emptiness, another day of loneliness<br>and in fact, the poem was about a black rose<br>unfolding its petals on a very dark night<br>and then coming out of a crevice from <br>a deserted building and then found a way<br>to bloom one morning<br>but darker still....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">all my poems, anyway, are written for someone <br>or anybody out there, lurking in the dark, looking for an opening, <br>wanting to drink the coming light of day, searching for their angels<br>of light and freedom and happiness</div><div style="margin:10px 0">well, that poem that was stolen, could be intended<br>or meant for the thief, and so, i have come to the conclusion<br>that i might as well, finally, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">give it to him <br>or her, i don't even know who that shadow was, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">there was simply this shadow fading in the ward.<br>that poem now shall be my gift to whoever shall have it<br>in the future</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i think, i know, how it feels now, to really give, even if it hurts.</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=493663" data-title="That Night When My Poem Was Stolen de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="that night when my poem was stolen i looked up the sky and saw the moon smiling and the stars winking more beautifully than before and i was wondering the change something must be special about what i told them my poem was stolen the wind was i..."></div> </div> </div>

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