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Array
(
[sid] => 177615
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Yonge Street
[time] => 2014-01-17 15:16:05
[hometext] => Most of what I write is based on real-life moments. This is about my meeting with a young brave boy on Yonge Street.
[bodytext] => Stared bluntly in his eyes and assured him “Time heals all wounds, you’ll be okay”. Did it though? She wasn’t half as certain as she seemed. Images of blood, bruises and tears quickly struck her, robustly reminding her that she too was waiting for time. It didn’t take an expert to analyze the doubt in her tone but he appeared to calm down. Insecure and ashamed of having exposed too much of himself, he blurted “I’m okay”. Although his eyes clearly spoke differently, she agreed politely with a nod. She wasn’t sure why she was standing in the cold convincing a younger stranger that his life would be okay despite his mother’s death. Often, she found herself speaking without thinking thoroughly and thinking thoroughly of what wasn’t spoken. Her worst quality, however, was surrounding herself with people that seem to have a savor of the pain she knew she could relate to. Deep inside she knew she was lying to him just as she was lied to but that knowledge hadn’t stopped her from trespassing foreign territory. Bob Dylan once said “Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain”. Walking away from the stranger I disagreed to myself, there is always a beautiful person behind every pain. hibissa, PLEASE: To help keep this site INTERACTIVE, please read and comment on at least 3 poems by our other authors for each one you submit. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 98 [topic] => 39 [informant] => hibissa [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief )
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