<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=494281" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Flowers Of Compassion</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">i accept<br>emotions, who can disregard it<br>without getting<br>sick and so i accept all emotions as real<br>as my tongue<br>bitten by my teeth<br>and bleeding<br>as i taste blood<br>like<br>nectar from a <br>a tiny flower that you pull<br>with your<br>cruel hands</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i am a bouquet of the yellow<br>flowers of<br>an emotional breakdown<br>the doctor who is a poet<br>writes that<br>poem</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the heart shrinks like a fake<br>cloth from <br>the chinks</div><div style="margin:10px 0">it is a drowning man who never<br>knows the hands that swim<br>in the body of a woman</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i accept all emotions of anger and pain and<br>envy and <br>hate (that is as crazy as an erupting volcano<br>wiping out a town<br>from the face of the province<br>burying those who are still screaming<br>in a number of seconds<br>the town becomes a flattened rock<br>a steel plate still fuming<br>mad with<br>toxic smoke </div><div style="margin:10px 0">time sides with me<br>the saints and angels come<br>in hordes and hordes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">God points his finger to my heart<br>the flowers of compassion bloom<br>a new landscape is drawn</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i am converted. i am new.</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=494281" data-title="The Flowers Of Compassion de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="i accept emotions, who can disregard it without getting sick and so i accept all emotions as real as my tongue bitten by my teeth and bleeding as i taste blood like nectar from a a tiny flower that you pull with your cruel hands i am a bouquet o..."></div> </div> </div>

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