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Array
(
[sid] => 170839
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Unfortunates
[time] => 2012-02-15 12:04:09
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I was born at half past one with eyes a bulging blue. I never got to know my mum she passed at half past two. There was a church, a burial, followed by eulogy. I came home to condolence cards, new toys and nursery. I doused the house in turpentine, sealed widows up with tape. Sadly it burnt down to the ground my dad did not escape. My Granddad came to pick me up and locked me in a cage. And there I spent my first year, till he died of old age. I left the town to join my aunt who lived upon a farm. It seemed that in this tranquil place I’d come to no more harm. A year later the neighbours found her hanging from a tree. And that was that at the age of two I was out of family. Alas not so, there was one more, an uncle from St.Clares. A temporary stop at best after he fell down the stairs. I made friends with a pack of dogs and lived off scraps of meat. Till a nosey social worker found me sleeping in the street. She whisked me to a children’s home the day that I turned three. I’d lived a pretty normal life, or no was that just me. Whose imaginary friend left them bleeding on the floor. My adopted family picked me up at the ripe age of four. To begin with I was sad but tough times make you harden. As it turns out my new family have a nice big garden. Where I will one day bury them be it dead or alive. I really should settle down soon for next year I’ll be five. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 86 [topic] => 13 [informant] => AJFleet [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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