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Array
(
[sid] => 173791
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Days I Met You
[time] => 2012-09-10 17:49:26
[hometext] => A visual on how a boy's days goes with each impression he has on one rather evanescent girl.
[bodytext] => The first day I met her, I was wondering about her eyes. They were the color of emeralds, Impossibly bright, And lit up the slightest bit at the sight of me. The second day I met her, I was wondering about her hair. The strands were messy with waves And wayward strands, Untamable with its thick auburn tresses And yet she still made it work. The third day I met her, I was wondering about her skin. It was such an unhealthy, Pale shade, The veins visible in some parts of it's surface. The fourth day I met her, I was wondering about her mouth (As creepy as that may sound.) She incorporated it to make large Cheshire grins Whenever she was amused, To reply with a cryptic little smile To questions and comments afterwards left unanswered, And an unshaped line When bored or In one of her mellow or Sour moods. The fifth day I met her, I was wondering about her hands. Tiny little scars were scattered All over the backs of her hands And the tops of her wrists. They were small and petite, Small digits graceful And capable of dexterity. (The truth was, I always wanted to see how they would feel against my face.) The sixth day I met her, I wondered about her voice. It was a sort of mezzo-soprano, The tone mellow and somewhat soft, Reminiscent of her natural shyness (Despite the fact she could be rather passive aggressive when annoyed). Skipping forward To a time Of after all those times, The four-hundred-and-fifty-fourth day I met her, I did what I finally wanted to do. I asked her to run away with me. She—You—only smiled at me That cryptic little smile She was rather fond of doing As of late. The four-hundred-and-fifty-fifth day I went to meet you, You weren't there. And I understood why. I knew, For as long as I knew you, That what I felt was one-sided. You went along with it all, Kept on dutifully being there When I needed you the most. But I understood That this was your answer. Disappointed as I was, And growing ever more worse With the days that you weren't there, I eventually stopped going, Knowing that I would never see you again. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 161 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Ensis718 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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