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Array
(
[sid] => 122675
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Amnesty
[time] => 2006-07-03 10:33:24
[hometext] => This is one of the best spoken word poems I have ever written. It's meant to be said to an ambiant loop.... Enjoy!
[bodytext] => It’s like a secret you cant get out It’s like a bomb that hasn’t gone off in a thousand years It’s a drug, and an addiction at that It’s like a perfect rose whispering in the breeze Whispering all your faults counting them down by ones By twos By Threes Until all you have left is the clothes on your back and the smile on your face Even if that’s not enough You still have to grin and bear it Because the guy next to you always has it worse The fire always burns brighter On the other side of the fence And the grass is just as soft and as useless as your own And the light in your eyes is just as faded As the man’s sitting across from you The train we all ride Day in and day out Seldom makes stops Seldom ever stops, no matter what And all I can see is your beautiful face You positively glow in a crowd It’s more than a drug now It’s an absolute weakness Dependency is a policy, and one I need to elaborate on And ice is still colder than the flames of hell Don’t you want to know the secrets? Of course you do… Your body language gives you away Don’t you want to know the weakness? It burrows deep inside you and stays there until all that’s left Is the mold on the bread, slowly growing in the freezer Put simply, the only thing you truly want is amnesty Not from the law From the monsters Slowly clawing at the strands left Inside that hollow tomb you like to call a chest The strands of magic, fire, blood, guts Whatever you want to call it It’s remains no matter what you title it Changing the title doesn’t change the meaning it holds Call it what you will It wont change how you feel about it How it feels about you The thing is… It’s not how well you know the forest But how well the forest knows you Do you recognize the branches? Or are they looking for familiarity in you You can talk to them all you want The flowers still wilt in the end They all shrivel and die, and leave only their offspring Isn’t that just life Isn’t it just… [comments] => 3 [counter] => 175 [topic] => 6 [informant] => RyanA [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AngryPoetry )
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