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Array
(
[sid] => 106704
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Right Back at Ya'
[time] => 2005-09-28 20:38:06
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Hence this infatuation with the self A realization of your potential worth This is not your imagination You are given but only one birth But one chance To do what you can on this earth And so I become disoriented Drifting off its course Unsubstantiated are these accusations That you put so vehemently forth And so I am lost Bait for the fish to snatch Yet it is you who has been caught Prepare for the barrage The carnage, The onslaught Bootleggers turn counterfeiters Health care providers and snotty babysitters Harassed secretaries to executives The company had been laid Get off, millions left unpaid What a crying shame, what an outrage Soup lines serving cold porridge Groups chime sad songs in old English To be a growing child again To just finish your meant n’ spinach Nothing is to be wasted Everything is to be stored in cans in a ditch Being ignored feels like a -itch Feeling this hungry can make my insides twitch And thus the juice drips The hairline tips A wrinkled forehead in my grips I am relived to be replaced Standing firmly My weight balanced by my hips Evenly distributed A preacher, yet still a student A denouncer of his capture In the rapture he is fluent Circular with bent angles incongruent A metaphor for nothin' doing No coffee brewing at home You said it before If not worth loosing just leave it alone ______________________________ ____________________ [comments] => 1 [counter] => 158 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Jyssvw [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 13 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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