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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=508871" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Telegraph Operator</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will not wash my face;<br>I will not brush my hair;<br>I &quot;pig&quot; around the place--<br>There's nobody to care.<br>Nothing but rock and tree;<br>Nothing but wood and stone,<br>Oh, God, it's hell to be<br>Alone, alone, alone!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Snow-peaks and deep-gashed draws<br>Corral me in a ring.<br>I feel as if I was<br>The only living thing<br>On all this blighted earth;<br>And so I frowst and shrink,<br>And crouching by my hearth<br>I hear the thoughts I think.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I think of all I miss--<br>The boys I used to know;<br>The girls I used to kiss;<br>The coin I used to blow:<br>The bars I used to haunt;<br>The racket and the row;<br>The beers I didn't want<br>(I wish I had 'em now).</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Day after day the same,<br>Only a little worse;<br>No one to grouch or blame--<br>Oh, for a loving curse!<br>Oh, in the night I fear,<br>Haunted by nameless things,<br>Just for a voice to cheer,<br>Just for a hand that clings!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Faintly as from a star<br>Voices come o'er the line;<br>Voices of ghosts afar,<br>Not in this world of mine;<br>Lives in whose loom I grope;<br>Words in whose weft I hear<br>Eager the thrill of hope,<br>Awful the chill of fear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'm thinking out aloud;<br>I reckon that is bad;<br>(The snow is like a shroud)--<br>Maybe I'm going mad.<br>Say! wouldn't that be tough?<br>This awful hush that hugs<br>And chokes one is enough<br>To make a man go &quot;bugs&quot;.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There's not a thing to do;<br>I cannot sleep at night;<br>No wonder I'm so blue;<br>Oh, for a friendly fight!<br>The din and rush of strife;<br>A music-hall aglow;<br>A crowd, a city, life--<br>Dear God, I miss it so!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Here, you have moped enough!<br>Brace up and play the game!<br>But say, it's awful tough--<br>Day after day the same<br>(I've said that twice, I bet).<br>Well, there's not much to say.<br>I wish I had a pet,<br>Or something I could play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cheer up! don't get so glum<br>And sick of everything;<br>The worst is yet to come;<br>God help you till the Spring.<br>God shield you from the Fear;<br>Teach you to laugh, not moan.<br>Ha! ha! it sounds so queer--<br>Alone, alone, alone!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+William+Service">Robert William Service</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=508871" data-title="The Telegraph Operator de Robert William Service" data-description="I will not wash my face;
I will not brush my hair;
I &quot;pig&quot; around the place--
There's nobody to care.
Nothing but rock and tree;
Nothing but wood and stone,
Oh, God, it's hell to be
Alone, alone, alone!

Snow-peaks and deep-gashed draws
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