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Array
(
[sid] => 139559
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Paradox Choked Itself
[time] => 2008-01-03 13:57:33
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => In this awkward isolation, I find a real motivation The pours of a new day rising through But the intention I desired, was balled up and rolled to fire On a knife of heat and green I passed to you The fevers of a Sunday bleed like a child runaway Hopping trains with stars, fat men and carpenters Like a passage could ever save you, or leave the room to soothe On the ache of an ending railway or it’s healing burn So fit into the fire for you can always live In a world where you aspire to give all you can give While your heroes turn the other way into pupils watching your head It’s a fitting movement till your dead A paradox was created, between you and the you you hated And the mirror cracked under weight Of the form that you intended, while the other two got offended Till you got caught up with yourself in arbitrary debate Senses met their matches, in a house made of sticks Designed in mind of guarding from the storm Change has made you sorry as pumpkin headed armies Headed to the patch to make some insolence and harm So fit into the fire for you can always live In a world where you aspire to give all you can give While your heroes turn the other way into pupils watching your head It’s a fitting movement till your dead It’s a never-ending movement till your dead And it probably goes on long after you are dead [comments] => 0 [counter] => 206 [topic] => 73 [informant] => Franciswolf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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