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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348574" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>O</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348574" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Old women look intently at Nothing when the doctor <br> announces a cancer, dark fruit, under the <br> shrunk left breast.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348574" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Girls' hands hold Nothing when the train sucks their <br> men from the platform and scoops them down the <br> slipway of rail.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348574" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Nothing beats in deafened ears on the empty and <br> godless altars of mountain tops.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348574" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Nothing is the final strength of the strong: the <br> last poison on the crumpling lips of the weak.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=348574" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><br>Submitted by Stephen Fryer</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=Arthur+Seymour+John+Tessimond">Arthur Seymour John Tessimond</a></strong></div>

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