Array
(
[sid] => 184262
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Melted Rocks
[time] => 2017-06-18 01:12:24
[hometext] => The Soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. John Vancer Cheney
[bodytext] =>
I saw my life,
after a time, as a polished piece of glass.
So many years toiling with towel
and rub;
Graining away a childhood
of rape, death and cockroaches;
a thousand rubs until smooth
as a windless summer pond,
the years sold, and I bought,
I looked at my fabrication and even believed
the land I rolled in was sweet and free.
Drugs and alcohol make terrific rags,
wonderful polishes.
But take them away,
and the glass is seen for what it is;
melted bits of larger rocks
beaten by time and man into something it is not.
[comments] => 2
[counter] => 244
[topic] => 65
[informant] => invierno
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => toughstuff
)
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