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Array
(
[sid] => 133975
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Lost
[time] => 2007-04-30 21:25:45
[hometext] => A poem about becoming an adult.
[bodytext] => Riding toward the riverbed on my seventeenth birthday, driven by a faceless ghost, I hear the trotting outside slow as the last of the lamp oil burns away. We finally stop, fathoms from any road. The carriage door opens, and my occult driver offers me his cold hand as I trade blankets for fog. He leads me, ignorant, to the heart of the valley, at the edge of a crawling river, and bids that I kneel on a sheet of wet slate. I can feel the weight of boyhood lift from my shoulders as I breath the stale fog. My nerves grow vigilant, ready to explode at a moment’s notice. The shrouded driver informs me of a gift crafted in the memory of Father and Mother. He hangs the heavy talisman on my neck and directs me to rise. “Go now into the fog,” he says, “You may never return home. There are many more like you, all equipped with the lessons of youth, and ignorant to the voice of maturity. Take what you can, and find the others. Together, you will grow and learn. You cannot do this alone. Keep close the ones who help you, and shed the ones who do you harm. Beware of deceptions, for there are many. Lies, thefts, and poisons abound. Not all have causes, not all can be changed. Beware of yourself. What you think to be best is not always so. Once you find your way, your answers, your heart, the fog will clear, and you may return to the village. There is no mistaking true love, but false love seldom seems so. The same can be said of opinions. Now go forth, and turn not back. You shall crawl out of this wood or never be seen. And after you, too, have heard the voice of maturity, you shall pass the lessons of boyhood down.” My blood aches with fear. The driver and carriage are gone. The fog is too thick to see through, so I must use my hands to find my way around. Before long, I meet others. Will they help me? Are they harmful? Am I right? Only time will tell. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 247 [topic] => 21 [informant] => butterat_zool [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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