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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365555" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The time will come.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365555" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When will the time come that there are no more parades, <br>No more celebrations, no more charades, <br>They'll swipe away the illusion so quick, no one will see it coming, <br>It seems no one will care, when the skies have fallen, <br>As they tunnel out the mountains to live beneath the ground, <br>What kind of life awaits them there? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365555" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Starving for light, crying only for echoes to drown them in sorrow, in solitude<br>Even when they no longer feel like crying, <br>Where do they turn, when do they run, will they be told? <br>Will they heed the warning of the sun as it glows red in the sky, as the moon dissappears, no one asks why, no one even notices that there's not a colour in the sky.<br>Out of bounds, lost out of reach, washed up upon some washed out beach<br>So far now from the rolling green valleys of our homeland.</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=David+Lacey">David Lacey</a></strong></div>

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