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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=496031" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Those Happy Times</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">i agree with you Benny<br>most of the happy moments we have are those<br>outside the house<br>when the big heads and the righteous old ones are not looking<br>they were our prison guards<br>and they were treating us <br>like convicts of the crimes we did not commit<br>but we maintained the silence<br>because of the respect<br>for old age not really wisdom</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i agree the rivers and the seas know us better<br>than there mouths<br>their beating hands<br>their gritting teeth cursing us the day we were born<br>poor like they way they lived and survived their own wars<br>their own fates<br>there was not attempt at all by them to learn<br>to reconstruct old broken selves<br>to heal old worn hearts<br>to free the mind from those that fettered them<br>their parents of course<br>our grandparents as we call them<br>those insensitive looks<br>those shoulders as broad as their indifference</div><div style="margin:10px 0">that was the farthest place we lived once<br>we live with<br>i am sure of myself<br>i am liberated<br>i have freed my minds from the shackles of poverty<br>and prejudices</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i am sure<br>indeed i am sure<br>i cannot live there anymore<br>and coming back<br>to me would be murder<br>as mortal as death<br>as crazy as suicide</div><div style="margin:10px 0">well we can send them letters<br>or emails<br>we can send them chain letters<br>and pictures of saints<br>or the Pope or <br>Mother Teresa<br>but i guess with their senile minds<br>and cracked bones</div><div style="margin:10px 0">everything is now too late<br>it is dark<br>and remember<br>we were children once and they never let us play</div><div style="margin:10px 0">under the full moon<br>when the stars glitter when we first learn<br>the magic<br>of imagination<br>when the air was fresh<br>when romance first showed<br>under the bush<br>when it rains and then we do not run<br>back for shelter<br>when we dance and laugh<br>and chase<br>dreams and ambitions<br>images and colors<br>rainbows and bridges<br>fairies and kingdoms...</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>
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<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=496031" data-title="Those Happy Times de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="i agree with you Benny
most of the happy moments we have are those
outside the house
when the big heads and the righteous old ones are not looking
they were our prison guards
and they were treating us 
like convicts of the crimes we did not commit..."></div>
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