Array ( [sid] => 140194 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => idreamFOR-thar2B-NoMOREteers-2-night [time] => 2008-02-02 15:52:32 [hometext] => keep my baybe from crying... [bodytext] => I know you love your homa.
And I know you love a coma...
Induced by concussions and blunt force trauma.

Your face is so soft like an albino cheese ripe in the sundried fields...
And your skin as unpruny as tens of thousands of pig squeals.

So I'll pick you up in my HUMMER™
And drive away into the summer.
And I'll give you a present, a brand new necklace
Made from the bones of a dead person AKA a skeleton.

Then you won't cry because the sweet aroma of the deadbones will rise up and dry your eyes and make you happy...
Then you will be reminded of nicer days before you were on this certain day where you felt like crying.
If you cry, then I will die.
If I die, will you cry?
If you don't cry, I will die...when I am dead.
But you can't cry, I already said.
Head.
Red.
Instead.
Lead.
Bed.
Ped.
Oh.
File.
Smile. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 215 [topic] => 14 [informant] => dummie [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DreamsandWishes ) Your Poetry Dot Com - idreamFOR-thar2B-NoMOREteers-2-night


idreamFOR-thar2B-NoMOREteers-2-night
Date: Saturday, 2nd February 2008 @ 03:52:32 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: dummie
I know you love your homa.
And I know you love a coma...
Induced by concussions and blunt force trauma.

Your face is so soft like an albino cheese ripe in the sundried fields...
And your skin as unpruny as tens of thousands of pig squeals.

So I'll pick you up in my HUMMER™
And drive away into the summer.
And I'll give you a present, a brand new necklace
Made from the bones of a dead person AKA a skeleton.

Then you won't cry because the sweet aroma of the deadbones will rise up and dry your eyes and make you happy...
Then you will be reminded of nicer days before you were on this certain day where you felt like crying.
If you cry, then I will die.
If I die, will you cry?
If you don't cry, I will die...when I am dead.
But you can't cry, I already said.
Head.
Red.
Instead.
Lead.
Bed.
Ped.
Oh.
File.
Smile.

This poem is Copyright © dummie


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