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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=345482" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Fury Of God's Good-bye</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=345482" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">One day He<br>tipped His top hat<br>and walked<br>out of the room,<br>ending the argument.<br>He stomped off<br>saying:<br>'I don't give guarantees'.<br>I was left<br>quite alone<br>using up the darkness.<br>I rolled up<br>my sweater,<br>up into a ball,<br>and took it <br>to bed with me,<br>a kind of stand-in<br>for God,<br>what washerwoman <br>who walks out<br>when you're clean<br>but not ironed.<br>When I woke up<br>the sweater<br>had turned to<br>bricks of gold.<br>I'd won the world<br>but like a<br>forsaken explorer,<br>I'd lost<br>my map.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Anne+Sexton">Anne Sexton</a></strong></div>