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Array
(
[sid] => 97084
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The End of Me
[time] => 2005-06-06 19:36:20
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Northbound in the summer of yesteryears The lush prairie land flows like a desert wave The fork in the road has stabbed, the carcass was run-over A hit and run accident the driver smoked himself sober Monuments carved in mountains In the forms of state owned public parks Admission is free, after you pay the toll booth guard The amateurs of the circus who travels in herds Practice their perverted magic in a tent off in the woods The sounds they make can not be discerned, while the rapture that participates seems to be brutally absurd Form and friction that parallel this earth Literature on a shelf that sits unopened by the youths who choose to be slugs Warning, this pack does bite, fermenting solicitudes, up all day, and day in, and out, The ringing bell of the clock tower rings out From across the room I hear you shout From across the world Across this ocean of doubt Harmonize with me, Placate this boy in me The path once not considered Has entered in, flown in, full blown And when I feel this alone A temptation to accelerate The desire to make sure I am heard So I annunciate I let you understand I decide that you may be able to relate Yet the sinner in me tell me to turn on the lights The dark room radiates, in the electricity the sin leaves behind I am not passionate, I have no need to love something so much That it may one day not be there And that to myself Is the love I provide For one day I too will die -------- --- [comments] => 1 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 43 [informant] => jyssvw22 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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