<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=566640" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Not A Poem</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's flush left, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The first letter</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In each line is</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Capitalized, and</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I use a simile, but</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's more police report</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Than poem.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>At just past 7 a.m., <br> <br>On a Saturday, <br> <br>My father slapped my face.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He slapped my face</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Because I didn't eat </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The scrambled eggs he made.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was easy for him to slap my face</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Because it reminded him </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of the people he hated.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He hated my face.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>He slapped my face so hard that<br> <br>My heart stopped beating, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I stopped breathing, my eyes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bounced around in their sockets, and</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My cheek was pushed hard</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And deep into the empty space</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where a tooth was.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Then he quickly went back up to his room, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was always going back up to his room, <br> <br>And he slammed the door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>My face was numb, my arms went limp</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And my legs buckled. I watched</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The squares on the kitchen floor go up</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And down. The bicyclists<br> <br>On the wallpaper moved.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>My heart became bloated with sadness.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">More than ever before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It dropped, like a water balloon</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Falling to the sidewalk</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From a second story window</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With a never ending anticipation</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of destruction.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Francis+Santaquilani">Francis Santaquilani</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=566640" data-title="Not A Poem de Francis Santaquilani" data-description="It's flush left, The first letter In each line is Capitalized, and I use a simile, but It's more police report Than poem. At just past 7 a.m., On a Saturday, My father slapped my face. He slapped my face Because I didn't eat The..."></div> </div> </div>

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