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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=541699" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>7/26/06</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=541699" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">i hear the twang<br>of someone's sadness<br>played<br>on a steel guitar<br>somewhere<br>down the street -<br>i am followed<br>by the music<br>like<br>a dog trailing<br>in the wake<br>of my travels, <br>following<br>at my heels.<br>but the song<br>is not in my head<br>for it evolves<br>constantly<br>into newer music<br>into newer misery; <br>i am not capable<br>of holding such sadness<br>i remain an observer to it<br>only someone who<br>has known a great deal of things<br>can take such melancholy<br>and twist it to make sounds<br>so true<br>and i have learned very little<br>despite being taught<br>very much</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=541699" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">(july 2006)</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=Ryan+Blood">Ryan Blood</a></strong></div>