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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 13:58:47 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 4543
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Friends
[time] => 2002-10-02 12:30:00
[hometext] => This is friendship, but it's a story as well. One that, hopefully, won't ever be finished.
[bodytext] => He sits in silence,
Tail gate down, Smoking a cigarrette, Waiting for her to come out of the restaurant. When he sees the door open he smiles, Gets up, and heads that way, He knows that she's afraid To walk alone in the dark. He walks her to her car, and his truck, As always, parked side by side. They could sit and talk for hours But it's getting late So thirty minutes is normally all they get to chat. Staring up into the twilight Watching cars whiz by, They talk about lost loves, homework assignments, Fights with parents, He holds her when she needs to cry. She takes a drag or two off of his cigarrette, Her "fix" for the night, She doesn't smoke, just with him It seems to be all right. She swings her legs back and forth While she sits on the tailgate, Everytime a subject comes up that Seems to agitate her. He throws an arm over her shoulder, Listens quietly, And gently and surprisingly, It always calms her down. He's the silent one. Her reading his moods like his emotions were all written on his sleeve, But they aren't, they are tucked deep inside And every one she works with wonders how she does it. They brighten up each other's lives Giving each other all they have to give, Their hearts, and their ears, And for that thirty minutes on that tailgate Of an old beat-up truck, Everything is right in the world. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 224 [topic] => 16 [informant] => ginsdance [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FriendshipPoetry )
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