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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=514168" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Touch Of Class</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=514168" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The tree, the sky, the moon, of<br>summer prick the eyes. <br>We suffer majestically. <br>The aberrations will <br>now rule the city. <br>Incorruptible winds <br>languished in crooked lanes. <br>A pale hand will paint the unlatched doors.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=514168" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When stars meditate in unison, <br>moon upcurves.<br>The blue becomes dark, <br>my eyes climb the hill. <br>The day has ended without a conclusion. <br>Clouds are frightened. <br>Virtue when cuts open the heart, <br>it does not bleed.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=514168" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Pseudo reality reigns, <br>and we amputate the limbs without analgesics. <br>The philosophy of being<br>is quietly murdered. <br>Green leaves start dying. <br>A terrible dream flicks the hope, <br>a touch of class with littleness.</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=Satish+Verma">Satish Verma</a></strong></div>

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