<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=497470" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>When The Rain Stopped Falling</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">there is this heavy rain<br>falling on top of your roof and it is so disturbing<br>that you wake up<br>and lock your windows<br>to shut yourself away from the sounds<br>of falling</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but you cannot help worrying even when you cannot<br>literally hear the sound of the falling rain</div><div style="margin:10px 0">you still imagine how they fall inside your mind<br>as though you can hear every syllable that every neddle of rain<br>is pricking in your brain<br>your ears<br>and your eyes still have the image of these<br>series of fallings</div><div style="margin:10px 0">that even if the rain finally stopped<br>and you open your window to check<br>in the middle of this time<br>when morning cracks fromt the shutters of your windows</div><div style="margin:10px 0">you still think like crazy<br>you hear the sound of the wind and it is like the sound of the falling<br>rain<br>and even if the wind has left like a leaf flown to the eastern side<br>of your house<br>even if there is no shadow of the leaf anymore<br>you hear your heart falling from your chest</div><div style="margin:10px 0">now you must accept<br>leaving. <br>now you must accept the pain.<br>do not deny it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">it is you that is falling out<br>from the grace of her love.<br>it is you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">cry it out! <br> shout it! <br> it is you.! <br>it is you! <br>it is not the rain, it is not the wind, it is not the leaf that was blown away<br>towards the eastern part of the house.it is not the design of the house.<br>it is not the purple curtains. it is not the lonely courtyard<br>it is not the red bowl. it is not the tower.<br>it is not the blank sheets of paper.<br>it is not the bell.<br>it is not the winding stairs.<br>it is not the dirty garage.<br>it is not the scaffold.<br>it is not the white paint.<br>it is not the doorbell.<br>it is not the turbulence of the plane.<br>it is not the slap of the hand.<br>it is not the blue fan.<br>it is not the cellophance floating in the air and whirling in that corner<br>a dead-end.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">it is you! and that is the truth! <br>be calm now. wipe the tears.<br>try sleep and dream.</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=497470" data-title="When The Rain Stopped Falling de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="there is this heavy rain falling on top of your roof and it is so disturbing that you wake up and lock your windows to shut yourself away from the sounds of falling but you cannot help worrying even when you cannot literally hear the sound of the..."></div> </div> </div>

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