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Array ( [sid] => 124957 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Probe Deep [time] => 2006-08-27 10:30:18 [hometext] => [bodytext] => It was a season of love
I saw her each and everyday
At eight o’clock sharp
I could not be delayed
I wrote her love poems at dark
She could not be swayed
The diamond of her eye
She would never betray

She dressed to kill
Carefully matched colors
Her figure tight and slender
How she smelt the first class
I will always remember
My body moved me involuntarily
I sat in the very first row
I know she noticed me
She was just scared to tell me so

I hung on her every last thought
My notes we exceptional
I wrote down every last word
She called me out on my potential
My willingness to be proud and unconventional
Asked me to reveal my viewpoints aloud
Like it was something monumental
An analytical frame-mind
I was forced to confess every time

And so it was known
The students had caught on
The clerk would soon learn
Then it was me who would have to run
A crazier man, there was none
For the clerk was insane
And he held the knives
Along with the handy machine guns
Packing that much heat
He could not be beat
My best move was now
Was to cowardly retreat

Why was I the compromise
The clerk had nothing
Couldn’t she simply realize
It was all told in his crazy eyes
A deranged pyschotic
He should be institutionalized
Atomoaticly penalized
"Thats one less wife!"
He should be ostracized
This was my life!

But insanity was prevalent
His delusion of grandeur
Was never hesitant
To himslef, he was never handsomer
Foolishly she feared his persistance
As if he were always after her
She breathed his breathe
It was no question
It became irrelevant
She would follow him to his death
Protect him like the president

Eight years later
This new season of rain
A new reminder of the clerk
How he won at his game
Eight o’clock ticks by again
Two aching hearts die in pain
The birds stroll central park
The old dog barks my new name
On the park bench I sit nearby
I let out a daunting
Depressing, little sigh
And the ever haunting
Dream of the teacher's clerk
Whisks right on by
Who I always wished had
But never really did have to die


__________
___________ [comments] => 1 [counter] => 206 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Mangos [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
Probe Deep

Contributed by Mangos on Sunday, 27th August 2006 @ 10:30:18 AM in AEST
Topic: oops



It was a season of love
I saw her each and everyday
At eight o’clock sharp
I could not be delayed
I wrote her love poems at dark
She could not be swayed
The diamond of her eye
She would never betray

She dressed to kill
Carefully matched colors
Her figure tight and slender
How she smelt the first class
I will always remember
My body moved me involuntarily
I sat in the very first row
I know she noticed me
She was just scared to tell me so

I hung on her every last thought
My notes we exceptional
I wrote down every last word
She called me out on my potential
My willingness to be proud and unconventional
Asked me to reveal my viewpoints aloud
Like it was something monumental
An analytical frame-mind
I was forced to confess every time

And so it was known
The students had caught on
The clerk would soon learn
Then it was me who would have to run
A crazier man, there was none
For the clerk was insane
And he held the knives
Along with the handy machine guns
Packing that much heat
He could not be beat
My best move was now
Was to cowardly retreat

Why was I the compromise
The clerk had nothing
Couldn’t she simply realize
It was all told in his crazy eyes
A deranged pyschotic
He should be institutionalized
Atomoaticly penalized
"Thats one less wife!"
He should be ostracized
This was my life!

But insanity was prevalent
His delusion of grandeur
Was never hesitant
To himslef, he was never handsomer
Foolishly she feared his persistance
As if he were always after her
She breathed his breathe
It was no question
It became irrelevant
She would follow him to his death
Protect him like the president

Eight years later
This new season of rain
A new reminder of the clerk
How he won at his game
Eight o’clock ticks by again
Two aching hearts die in pain
The birds stroll central park
The old dog barks my new name
On the park bench I sit nearby
I let out a daunting
Depressing, little sigh
And the ever haunting
Dream of the teacher's clerk
Whisks right on by
Who I always wished had
But never really did have to die


__________
___________




Copyright © Mangos ... [ 2006-08-27 10:30:18]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Probe Deep (User Rating: 1 )
by hauntedscorp on Sunday, 27th August 2006 @ 04:26:33 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
I like this : )



It's just you.




~Scorp.





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