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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 12-June 04:05:48 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 137395
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Questions.
[time] => 2007-09-19 18:51:39
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Punching with fists On concrete floors Trying to get to The bottom of it all Bruises and scrapes Fractures and blood Looking for brilliance In human on gray And if I tried to tell you Would you let me sell you On what it is I see Or would you scoff and Criticize me? And on the turn Would I have the ear? To hear what you say In the crisp and clear Or are we stuck In some ritual rut That acts as a scab Over all the past cuts? Are we really so shallow That we simply can't see That what's right for you Isn't necessarily for me? And can I fathom The things that you do Don't have to make sense For any but you? When finally we smart And see these simple things Will it be understanding Or putting on airs? Coming down to the moment The human condition Your guess as good as mine On which end rendition We'll finally see. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 147 [topic] => 43 [informant] => xnoybis [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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