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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=487954" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>For I Cry No More</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=487954" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">what tears are? i have known more than<br>one, shaped like a cone, fluid, washing the sticky<br>part of my sorrow, like a flood in the river<br>taking every driftwood every foul carcass<br>of depression.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=487954" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">father says a man grows and he becomes big enough<br>for tears.<br>and soon he grows much bigger than the old tree of<br>the ancestors, a genealogy with roots spreading, <br>beating through the layers of a tribe's history.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=487954" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">like those who died ahead, with all the shaking moments<br>houses falling, and burning ashed, <br>one arrives at the point of the threshold of tolerance, <br>no stab of sorrow pierces the heart <br>there is this constant use of pain, unattached, ineffective, <br>and tears have no use anymore.</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=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a></strong></div>

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