<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=493743" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Alien...</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">it is never the desire<br>of him<br>who writes so well to become another poet in the halls of fame, <br>no, not, and far from it, <br>all that he did was merely to unload<br>what was in his mind<br>on those dark nights<br>when he felt terribly</div><div style="margin:10px 0">either sad, or horrified or lonely, <br>it is only sometimes when<br>he felt bliss<br>or those tiny pieces of happy<br>minutes that<br>comfort his mind<br>that eases his heart<br>on this long and lonely journey<br>toward a faraway place<br>which he thinks he must have been <br>but he cannot anymore remember<br>except that feeling<br>of </div><div style="margin:10px 0">missing, that longing that no word has ever filled<br>that nostalgia that never disappears<br>while waiting<br>while standing by<br>on a train station that takes him back<br>to a rented room</div><div style="margin:10px 0">while sitting on a chair as everything flashes<br>on him<br>like lightning<br>when he sees only shadows of trees<br>and rooftops</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and then the heavy rain<br>compels him to close the window<br>though<br>this time<br>brave as he is on his own<br>there are no<br>more tears...</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=493743" data-title="The Alien... de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="it is never the desire of him who writes so well to become another poet in the halls of fame, no, not, and far from it, all that he did was merely to unload what was in his mind on those dark nights when he felt terribly either sad, or horrifie..."></div> </div> </div>

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