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Array
(
[sid] => 130383
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Girl Number 28
[time] => 2007-01-11 02:36:49
[hometext] => F.W.
[bodytext] => I’m sitting here on the restroom floor like I’ve done zero times before. Wishing you’d of said “How about” or “What about” “You take me out?” But there is no communication swinging by for you to ignore Or thus defy, to shut down my “try” How dare you not read minds. I thought you knew. Girl Number 28, take my heart I cannot wait. Don’t leave me here I hate this place. I only came to see your face. Coffee lounges, shopping sprees, a loser begging on his knees. His teeth grinding into his legs. I think it’s clear. We’ve all had it having it up to here. There was a time when you didn’t know me. I wish I could go back to that. Back before you analyzed where I’m at. That thing we call intuition, first impression. I call it that ***** who mocks my frame morphing me to stay the same. I think you know where I stand. Hell, where I’d like to stand. What I feel is grand. The brainwaves of an imaginary land. Where I’m not ignored, where you don’t get bored with me. Untalented me, unique free me, intuition’s enemy. The try too hard boy with a crush on the know too much girl, Makes like a mutilated hand in a clapped up pearl. Girl Number 28, take my heart I cannot wait. Don’t leave me here I hate this place. I only came to see your face. And if you recall, I often fall, so how can I stand to catch you? If I were to say the words, I’d swear to God you already knew. So what’s there left for me to do? First impression writes a stupid poem in a dirty bathroom all alone. What I’m trying to say is, There was a time when you considered and I know the time is gone. And that it doesn’t matter if it was about acting right or acting wrong. But God do I miss the feeling of being option one, three, five or two Just for the slim chance of a unity with you. You write songs to other boys and I think it’s sick to say. That I wish I was one of them and I could think of you that way. Oh girl, lady, beauty true. This is an ugly poem about the loss of the vague opportunity called a me and you. And I do not mean to bore “us”. I will end it with the chorus. Girl Number 28, take my heart I cannot wait. Don’t leave me here I hate this place. I only came to see your face. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 197 [topic] => 22 [informant] => Franciswolf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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