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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 12:12:17 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 143031
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => ~David Scott~
[time] => 2008-06-07 08:30:05
[hometext] => you do have control
[bodytext] => He was a good boy went to church made good friends held good company he was clean cut and drug-free something you didn't see everyday he wasn't hopeless he had dreams big dreams then he grew he became a good teenage boy went to church still had decent friends became a bit disorganized he was the rock for all his friends but his spirits were high still clean-cut and still didn't drink he was still on the right path but his dreams grew weak his aspirations fell short then he became a young man barely 18 he didnt have time for church although he still believed his friends: junkies and alcoholics he tried to organize all their messed up lifes he the messiest of them all mind trampled and confused with his great hair cut he became his father something he swore he would never be the path he began on took a turn couldn't contemplate anything anymore all because of his now best friend Mr. THC and his baby girl Francis Bean he loved her so much but feared the cycle would continue and she would become another bum on the street... just like him , and his father before him. So he ran and left ...he was now an older man of 34 16 years ago it was since he left his one and only joy he found time to go to church although the guilt consumed him his friends all dead he had survived went to rehab ...and got better and left with one regret... that his friends never had he had always been in control no matter how high he got it was never strong enough or didnt last long enough his problems only got deeper and harder to deal with everynight he pictured his little girl running into the arms of a false daddy his hair was now not that great ...but he owed it to her he went back ... She was all teary... every tear that dropped from her precious face... felt like a knife in his back she held a baby within her arms his name was david scott he apoligized She stood tall at 17 she was alone for the longest time ...but he was better and he was there now ...she had messed up and all he could do was cry cry for the first time... it didnt help but he wasnt that strong anymore and it needed to be done he had now become a wise grandfather made good friends held good company he was clean cut and drug-free something you didn't see everyday he wasn't hopeless anymore it wasnt too late his dreams had been re-opened and so his eyes To a cruel world...except for the pure baby boy in his daughters arms that wouldnt repeat the cycle [comments] => 2 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 75 [informant] => Princesa [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )
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