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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=579649" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Those Feelings Who Let You In</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Those feelings who let you in are going now, <br>Lighting out in that terrible fog: <br>The last one I can feel is the one letting me know, <br>Holding the door open as we wave the others goodbye: <br>What a foolish thing, ambition, <br>To want to know the avenues to your<br>Neck, displayed like a creature <br>Of the sea naked on the foaming shore <br>Without its dress of shells: <br>I liked these words I curled for you, <br>Because I wanted them to be my tongue<br>Slipping between your lips when you were not looking: <br>When you were talking with the other man: <br>I wanted to surprise you, <br>And let that me by occupation: <br>To inhabit your heart as if it were my preservation: <br>I, a naturalism, and your chest the habitat of my study, <br>But I was never so good at satire<br>To make you look a second time at me: <br>The embolden language of my parents’ rejection, <br>A child making a mess in his lonely room, <br>I accomplished that: <br>I became a fool for you, but look at this.<br>Here is the conclusion to the thing.<br>There are still many words to be said, <br>And people to say them as they wake up for class: <br>There is a room I am in, <br>And outside there are trees, <br>And the sky in its haunted night too cold to follow-<br>Languages and lovers and roller coasters aplenty, <br>But none for me-<br>I graduated and that is that, <br>And now is the time for my simpler plot: <br>No more essays, or thoughts of you: <br>The way you lighted the predawn hours <br>Where the men were busy selling the fruits<br>Which would soon travel northwards, <br>To be bought in the morning-<br>I loved you, as I told you, but I am still here: <br>My words should become silent now, <br>A mute theatre, a holocaust, <br>A simpler traveler abiding the rules: <br>And you, the untamed migration<br>That is lost.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Bret+R.+Crabrooke">Bret R. Crabrooke</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=579649" data-title="Those Feelings Who Let You In de Bret R. Crabrooke" data-description="Those feelings who let you in are going now, 
Lighting out in that terrible fog: 
The last one I can feel is the one letting me know, 
Holding the door open as we wave the others goodbye: 
What a foolish thing, ambition, 
To want to know the avenu..."></div>
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