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Array ( [sid] => 113471 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Best Of My Best [time] => 2006-01-19 19:02:28 [hometext] => ~to society and all the ignorant people ashamed of their wounds, we are the hurt that refuses to yeild. The beauty of disaster.~weepingprophet [bodytext] => your face is etched in my arm
as subtly as the knife in my back
the withered flowers in my front yard
are rememberance of what we once had

how soft the soil was in spring
when we planted our torrid hearts
you choked the life right out of me
like a weed tears the flowers apart

forgiveness is something i beg to forget
the memory outlasts the pain
but all the countenance of my solemn regret
is somehow painted so vain

your face is etched in my heart
as subtly as the ach in my chest
all the flowers that you tore apart
were simply the best of my best

[comments] => 1 [counter] => 419 [topic] => 55 [informant] => weepingprophet [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 11 [ratings] => 5 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )

The Best Of My Best

Contributed by weepingprophet on Thursday, 19th January 2006 @ 07:02:28 PM in AEST
Topic: dedicatedpoems

your face is etched in my arm
as subtly as the knife in my back
the withered flowers in my front yard
are rememberance of what we once had

how soft the soil was in spring
when we planted our torrid hearts
you choked the life right out of me
like a weed tears the flowers apart

forgiveness is something i beg to forget
the memory outlasts the pain
but all the countenance of my solemn regret
is somehow painted so vain

your face is etched in my heart
as subtly as the ach in my chest
all the flowers that you tore apart
were simply the best of my best

Copyright © weepingprophet ... [ 2006-01-19 19:02:28]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Best Of My Best (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Thursday, 19th January 2006 @ 09:00:02 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

when I think of things, memories that I do not care for, I say, ok Lord, I prayed about this, so now, I know I know I was forgiven, help me to move on, oh, a lot of my flowers have been torn apart, luckily there were wonderful seeds left behind and grew back, beauty once restored. Lovely poem, thank you raquel Leah

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