Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=547777" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Calendar Night</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">This<br>Long hour<br>Of waiting<br>Is like that morn<br>When I drank thirteen<br>Cups of Arabica</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I cling to this frail blanket<br>Frantically trying to abstain<br>From rays or forms of incandescence<br>I shut my mind off as if it’s a switch<br>But his convolutedness is Juggernaut<br>So once again I turn, churn, and curse in my bed</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I now find myself groping for words to fill a month<br>I think this is how long it’ll take my darkness and I<br>To catch up like friends who drifted apart since graduation<br>Now I can hear three clocks simultaneously ticking in my ears<br>And the sound of the freezer is enough to turn my soda stone-cold<br>As thousands of little feet are hazing the ceiling into a playground </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I wake up hoping that a glass of mineral water wouldn’t do that much harm<br>A late night talk show or a vintage John Wayne or Clint Eastwood western could still be on<br>I thought, as I picked the remote which is keeping itself together from the torturous <br>Onslaught of a two year old whose occupation is to pick up and fling things to pieces<br>I wondered how cavemen pass the time on a moonlit humid night as this as I flip channels<br>By the millisecond seeing more and more dinosaurs and flashes of meteors than tube pictures</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Seven hours of bright lights squeezed cruel drops of sea water into my tired, red, and overly rubbed eyes <br>What does a man have to do to get a yawn he desires like an oasis in the sands of arousal? <br> I must have counted a legion of sheep when the first cloud of snooze rain, although just the size of a fist, showed its head <br>Pictures on the wall are gradually blurring, shadows are becoming longer and darker, lights are disappearing<br>Muscles have begun to twitch as consciousness, thought by thought, marches and evaporates to the sound of fainting time hands <br>Somnus came simultaneously with Dawn as if to say “finally” but the church bells drove the doze away-CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=A.G.+Bawang">A.G. Bawang</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=547777" data-title="Calendar Night de A.G. Bawang" data-description="This
Long hour
Of waiting
Is like that morn
When I drank thirteen
Cups of Arabica

I cling to this frail blanket
Frantically trying to abstain
From rays or forms of incandescence
I shut my mind off as if it’s a switch
But his convolutedness is J..."></div>
</div>
</div>