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Array
(
[sid] => 172194
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Deep in Dallas
[time] => 2012-04-26 20:59:04
[hometext] => True story
[bodytext] => Deep in Dallas A cheap room deep in the heart of Dallas on the corner of third and vine A blinking intruder without malice Big Jim’s liquors neon sign There he lies in drunken slumber daddy’s bought him forty winks Mumbling curses, threatening movements, punching pillows as he sleeps Near his bed there is a bottle Big Jim’s light makes it glow Cigarettes, a Zippo lighter and an ashtray overflows A pretty girl’s picture from his wallet lies crumpled on the floor A Dear John letter lies beside it that’s been crumpled even more She played a game to test his love, what was she thinking of You don’t do that to a big farm boy drinking heavy and in love Later she came with heavy heart, to tell him she loved him so In his dream with no time to scream he strangled Mary Alice Lowe It’s a sad scene that we’re viewing, a boy that gave his heart away A pretty young girl pale and lifeless in the dark as cold as clay A cheap room deep in the heart of Dallas on the corner of third and vine Through the window he went running and died in the glow of a neon sign The moral is you don’t play games with the one you love Things change with the flip of a coin to a side you’ll never dream of Poem by R. E. Poore 4-26-2012 [comments] => 2 [counter] => 154 [topic] => 31 [informant] => bobbyclay56 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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