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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=509860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Chirping</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=509860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I have a story to tell. A familiar one of a kind tale.<br>Colored by pigment and biased with a name.<br>Breeding contempt or some other monstrous thing<br>in hearts that pump fear as if it was life itself.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=509860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It's a story that comes in pieces, chunks or ragged whole <br>cloth, though it can seem stitched into a tapestry, or <br>quilted by an Amish maiden fresh as this morning's hay<br>and full of lies. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=509860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It's a story that cracks my voice.<br>About the cost of freedom.<br>About these wounds in my arms<br>bleeding secrets I once kept, <br>staining my bones like a Maori tattooing ceremony.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=509860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It is a story about blind alleys.<br>About mountains and trails meant for goats.<br>About walking in light and shade.<br>Learning to live in the light<br>and rest in the shade.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=509860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It is the story of the years and how they burn the skin.<br>The innocent days, and guilty nights <br>when I am no longer young.<br>About the grip of a force I cannot resist.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=509860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In the night I hear a cricket chirping.<br>It reminds me of music from long ago, <br>a well tempered riot of color and sound; <br>the cricket is chirping, the music is playing, <br>the torch is lit and I have a story to tell.</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=Ronald+Shields">Ronald Shields</a></strong></div>

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