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Array
(
[sid] => 101992
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Journal Intime
[time] => 2005-07-24 15:43:21
[hometext] => Journal Intime in French means intimate journal... which is what this poem is about...
[bodytext] => Hello journal, its me again I have a lot to tell you, don't know where to begin I haven't written in well over a year I know, I'm sorry, but then, I had nothing to fear My journal I hope no one ever reads you If someone were to steal you I wouldn't know what I'd do I've never been ashamed of anything I've confessed But I'd miss reading you, I'd be a mess Anyway, I met this girl, a beautiful young lady I spent my nights with her, and saw her daily We used to lay on the ground looking at the stars But her eyes were the brightest novas by far Normally I stay inside and get depressed when it pours But we'd go out play around, kiss, and play some more It was like I was a child again with this one No matter how boring the subject, with her, it was fun It was strange journal, I was in love But I don't know what happened, she just gave up Not on me, but on the hope of finding an answer She had a disease, a sickness called cancer I miss her so much journal I can't stand it She was so lovely, I'd have never planned it I cried for months straight, over this beautiful girl She's the only thing that mattered to me in this entire world She was my angel, the one I've only ever truely cared for I know our time was short, but I couldn't ask for more Goodbye, journal, thanks for listening to me again I want to bury you with her, so she can read you in heaven [comments] => 1 [counter] => 162 [topic] => 22 [informant] => heartquake [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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