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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 13:52:00 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 92883
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => standing
[time] => 2005-05-01 02:50:48
[hometext] => the young and the naive
[bodytext] => Standing We went for a walk, and life became evident then Nothing was said, but we new that it mattered naught For our lives were as one, universally understood as so Our secrets remained ours no more For we knew that everything spiraled, and then I thought I thought that you were some one, and now I think I think that your are naught And my emotion brought me to the brink For what have we lived, good sir Pete? In all the endless conversation babble What have we found besides the inevitable defeat? Could you tell me, or lead me, when that was truly my place? Could you do so and look me in the face While I lived in that small crawl space You lived your perfection, growing into utter disgrace And the things that we saw should have made relevant The truth that is so sought, is just so-truth to be sought This spiral that seems on the back, gray as elephant Everything that you could bring, by love was already brought And through all of this you still gave no thought And now I go through life with only one thing on mind That thing being the revenge that I seek of kind A kind that you do not and will not understand That the reality of it is simple to demand Could there be something more? Something to fill the stega? On the East Coast we have lost, while in the West….. For now I am a forever enigma And you should know the rest A hint for you my good man You are something that I love And you are some one I cannot stand I give you no bluff “our bodies entrap our souls, the rulers of truth, entrapped in such chaos of biology. And magic is never exposed for fear of true freedom, but one thing forgotten, forgotten is me.” What am I doing? If I am not who I want to be than what am I? All these things I ask please answer almighty…. you. Pictures of thousands of faces, and guess what? None are you, and none are me, but some time we shall meet in between. What beauty would that be? Playing games with myself am I? Should I plug out? I shall soon know who you really are. Forever for stega, theloadeddragon [comments] => 0 [counter] => 151 [topic] => 16 [informant] => theloadeddragon [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FriendshipPoetry )
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