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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421945" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Poem At The Approach Of Spring</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421945" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It's spring. I suppose I ought to be impressed<br>By snowdrops, daffodils and all the rest -<br>Quite frankly I detest<br>The whole goddamn scene, <br>I'm sick of every platitude<br>That betrays some soppy poetic attitude -<br>I'm feeling quite depressed! <br>The world is young again and green<br>But, what the hell, <br>I feel about a hundred years old! <br>Yes, I detest<br>The way the poets are so obsessed<br>With snowdrops, daffodils and all the rest! <br>I suppose you've guessed<br>I've lost my poet's interest<br>In life and growing things, <br>The way the blackbird sings<br>And builds its nest, <br>I am a man apart<br>And nothing will ever comfort my empty heart.</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=John+Thorkild+Ellison">John Thorkild Ellison</a></strong></div>