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Array
(
[sid] => 109824
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Story that cannot be Erased
[time] => 2005-11-15 22:44:07
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I find myself in a story, a story that started from birth. However the beginning does not start with “once upon a time”, and does not end with a perfect chime. Innocence was the starting theme, from chapter one through chapter nine. Loving parents had I, and the writing upon my hearts book was equal to a vintage wine. Little did I see that a new writer was about to take their place. He traveled from a far off place, and evil was written on his face. Lifting the pen, he begins to write a story of love, pain, shame, and parts I wish could be erased. Every time I blink years fly by at a blinding pace, things I do, have done, I’m wishing I could erase. Gone are the seconds that have ticked by, a young boy turns into a man who’s far from being shy. The shadows of my past jump out at me, scare me, tear at me, and remind me I’m living a horror story. The devil of a writer is he, with no checks or balances, he writes at will, won’t give me a page of peace, can’t leave my heart alone, and I can’t keep still. Lost am I, a normal life I no longer live. A heart of compassion, now turned to stone, no warmth will I give. I cry because this was not my story, but it is a story of something else. Who is writing my life’s story? The story of my life is twenty years in the making, and every minute someone else is taking. No rewrites will be given, no squeal in the making, and when the last page is read, I will be shaking. Not of our world is this writer, I can’t find him, I can barely see. Desperately I pray for my past to be rewritten, but alas this is my life, a story that cannot be erased. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 236 [topic] => 75 [informant] => midnightwriter [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 30 [ratings] => 6 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )
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