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Array
(
[sid] => 164246
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Seeing Red
[time] => 2011-01-13 09:40:07
[hometext] => My dad was called Red from a yong age. Red is also said to be the color of anger hence Seeing Red. Instead of thinking of the lives effected by cancer I will think of the lives affected by my dad. When I think of cancer I will always be Seeing Red.
[bodytext] => He is a thief, slipping in quietly, unnoticed. Lurking in dark crevices, places sledom viewed. He is patient, biding his time, steadfast. Alluding discovery, strengthening his hold. He is obstinate, stubbornly forging on, undaunted. Gaining power as he stands defiant. He is a predator, roaming about aimlessly. Enciting fear, devouring life. He is brazen, grappling for control, contemptuous. Stealing dignity and pride without concern. He is merciless, showing no favoritism, unbiased. Uncaring of creed, color, age or staus. Attacking anyone, any time, any place. He is a coward, often giving no warning. Unwilling to reveal the destruction that is sure to ensue. Yet he is fought hard, tirelessly. Enabling his victims with unimaginable strength and unwavering dedication. He is not unopposed but yet to be annihilated. Awaiting eradication, he must be stripped of his power. He may win battle after battle but has not and will not win the war! He is cancer, and I eagerly await the day he exists no more. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 103 [topic] => 25 [informant] => LeeLee0409 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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