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Array
(
[sid] => 165839
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => why
[time] => 2011-04-12 08:48:23
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Why do I sit here ra-ta-ta-ta-ting away, on a summer like lovely spring day? Why do I feel the need to tell the world of this state on an aspect I want to dictate? Why does a voice in me have to declare what it is, in a rising hidden disguise as I say? Why does this voice make me check the response just to know , oh to know, how highly I rate? The answers are staring me in the face it's a need to be valued within my space and without, on an ether of another plane that excites me somewhat though I hold my refrain. Why does the sun shine so brightly when I feel so slightly in need of something that's amiss? Why deep inside do I know that I'm lucky to have what I have should be glad for my lot? Why do I sneak around typing and causing a hidden scene in the mind of the girl that I kiss? Why am I so timidly arrogant to have the need to show off, be fresh in the mind and not rot? The answers are beyond me I'm sure. Hard wired like a virus so I'm no longer pure. The reader may have an opinion of note give it. If that's what floats your boat. Why do we always need answers. Why do I say we? when In reference I'm talking to me? Why do I know that if I truly knew, then the facts as they are, they would make me feel blue? Why am I rambling just as you switch off and click next, go right on for I surely won't vex? Why have I run out of questions to ask of myself? I fell better now. T'was good for my health. ? Same time next week? Ta [comments] => 3 [counter] => 156 [topic] => 64 [informant] => poeticjestix [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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