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Array
(
[sid] => 168558
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Letters
[time] => 2011-11-13 14:50:26
[hometext] => Sometimes we all wonder what life would had been like if we had chosen a different road
[bodytext] => The Letters It’s late at night and I sit and I ponder Invoking spirits well into the night I yearn for sleep but will it come, I wonder The wind rattles the panes disrupting the quite It seems the past I’ve come to dwell in It’s something the old should never do It’s a place where your ghost come calling And those ghosts are my memories of you On the table before me a faded picture Of a beautiful and youthful Marie Her youth and my ambition, a poor mixture For a girl that had just turned seventeen A picnic spoiled beneath an arbor Eating grapes as we hide from the rain Deep apprehensions I did harbor My leaving I tried to tell, but in vain The devil in me was appalling Promises made I knew I wouldn’t keep I kissed her cheek and said later my darling It was the last time I saw Marie Tear stained letters were she cried For months they came every day I could not open them nor could I reply Sadly I tossed the letters away In my life I became wealthy and bold But she crossed my mind each day I sit here now all wrinkled and old Wishing to god I had not thrown those letters away Poem by R. E. Poore [comments] => 2 [counter] => 110 [topic] => 24 [informant] => bobbyclay56 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LoveRemembered )
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