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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410276" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The little Photoshop of Horrors.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410276" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There is a little corner in a sepia coloured shop<br>that hides a silhouette inside the grain, <br>A sobbing child is briskly making headway with her mop<br>as countless customers insist on dragging in the rain.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410276" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">They only see the shopkeeper, his wares upon the shelves<br>and hope to see no more than what they need.<br>Like most, they've no desire to see much farther than themselves.<br>Like most, they don't associate this blinkered trait with greed.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410276" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I scanned this ancient photograph, which I had thought so quaint.<br>Not knowing, seeing, sensing what it hid.<br>When lightening the contrast, saw a face, at first so faint.<br>But sharpening the focus was the worst thing that I did.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=410276" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">You see, two hundred years or so had covered o'er the cracks<br>that now creep through my family's history.<br>The chains and shackles on such children, birch scars on their backs.<br>Some times we don't like what we see, when software solves the mystery.</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=Hola+Mentirosa">Hola Mentirosa</a></strong></div>