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Array
(
[sid] => 116792
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => I Am Wrecked-Feathered Wing
[time] => 2006-03-21 12:18:12
[hometext] => no clue what I was on while writing this.
[bodytext] => Upward, downward, high & low Arms of feathers that doesn't know where to go. Wind scraping & feather grinding Finding, it's probably somewhere I am searching. It screeches loud, earsplitting sing I am the wreck-feathered wing. Ivory colored majestic feathers Flapping gracefully, growing steadier. Each time it wags, one might fall Uncaring; only one fell--not all. Hence each fallen feather, descending down Will find their way onto defiled ground. It doesn't know because it can't see Each feathers are like a family. One will define, will represent Many meanings, certain element Of power & weakness, failure & hope Of grieving forever, or knowing to cope. Lose a feather, that means will go Learn how to right wrong, then it will again grow. You find your ways with waiting still That strange ability, your patient skill. Just waiting, although doing nothing Until they grow, feather of sheer hoping. Then again... you lose what you grew Still you're stubborn, it'll grow again, you knew. Standing there at the morn's moist dew Starting over, to something fresh & new. Such lucky birds flying up so high Upward, downward, in the sky. & here I am, like a leftover feast With no more feathers... a naked beast. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 168 [topic] => 13 [informant] => marionette [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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