 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 11:52:41 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 150179
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Escape
[time] => 2009-05-26 13:38:52
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => This place was made for us; you and me. I was running away, so were you. I was at the train station with nothing, id run from my school, couldn’t bear to go home. You had planned your escape; you had a bag, and were wearing plain clothes. I caught your eye amongst the crowds of elderly people lining the platform. You smiled through tired eyes. I dared a second glance back, but by then your eyes were fixated on the moving trains, passing by like bolts of thunder. A train pulled in, slowly, slowly. Stopped. You took a step forward, then glanced back. Another step forward. An uncertain glance at me. Final call echoed around my ears until finally the train started to move. You took a startled step backwards, cursed and threw your bag to the ground. I uncertainly picked up your bag and passed it to you. You snatched at the other handle, but I didn’t let go. You looked up and glared at me, then recognised me from the shared glance before. For a moment we were locked together, as one. I coughed, mumbled and released my grip. I began to walk away until an unfamiliar voice stopped me. It was low and silky. This voice surrounded me and wrapped me in adoration. “Have you ever just needed a holiday? To get away from everything you are?” You told me of your plans to leave. I told you I was doing the same. We sat in silence on the rusty bench at the platform edge. We must have sat there for a good thirty minutes until a train pulled in. You rose from the bench grabbed my hand and lead me onto the train. We sat side by side, never releasing our grip. We got off the train, sweaty palmed from my increasing clutch on your hand. As if in reply, you turned to me and said “There’s nothing to be scared of now. This is our place.”
[comments] => 1
[counter] => 160
[topic] => 43
[informant] => 123456
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => oops
)
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com