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Array
(
[sid] => 154780
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Charlaton
[time] => 2009-11-06 01:19:30
[hometext] => Comment puh-lease.... every bit of feedback is helpful =D
[bodytext] => It's when you've always been the one who doesnt need anyone. Children, always reaching out to the family. It's when those tasked with being there, fail to fulfill. Callous, not needing anyone, except in the cold nights. A self made tradition, of self preservation. Ever giving of the body and mind to those who have none. Raising spikes against those who have more, intent regardless. Gifted with a plain yet captivating charm. Easily, audaciously, harmfully, flirting. An itricate web with many fell flies. Outwardly strong, fierce, beautiful. Victim to the deceit of the self. Knowing the charade cannot go on. "One will save me, someday." Daily, continuing a self deprecating cycle. Mindlesssly picking the next victim. Pre-occupied mind, body playing the game. A new sensation, electric touch, forcing it back. Not like the others, silently demanding attention. Of prince like quality, there is none. The aura of a god is missing. Confused, the trickster sees no reason. "Why, oh why?" comes the anguished cry. Defenses up, throwing out hurdles. The best known techniques used, everyone else would have left. Yet used and weary, the charlaton looks up, a lord remains. With quiet princelike quality, a godlike aura surrounding. He comes down to hold her. A child again, exhausted and exposed, collapsing into him. "Will you leave me? Now that you have won?" Hoping for fortune, but holding no hope to be gifted with it. Reassuring arms grasping material, as if to hold forever. "Never." [comments] => 3 [counter] => 216 [topic] => 43 [informant] => christinalwk [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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