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Array
(
[sid] => 40882
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Tear Drops and the rain
[time] => 2004-03-29 20:51:24
[hometext] => I'm trying to work off a dazed depressed state so if this poem doesn't work, don't be suprised.
[bodytext] => It is odd to think That when we were young We loved to hear the water clink On metal warmed by the sun To Dance and shout To sing and swing To hold our hands out Just to feel the sweet touch of the rain And yet when we grew older We ran from the rain Calling it a nuisance Yet it is rain all the same A gentle down pour A silent dream To spend one hour Under that gentle stream Now we have nothing Not even rain We only have our teardrops Rain with a different name We struggle to hold them in Afraid of losing them Our last connection Let truth begin There's no difference Just the name that's not the same There is no difference Teardrops are the rain Rain falling, rain showing What there is in life Bringing us back to childhood Forgetting all our strife Rain falls everyday In one place or another And each day, in their own way Children are out there playing They hold their faces to the sky Imagining what it is to fly We use it as a clever disguise A mask to cover our eyes In our pain It is to the rain We run, and we hide Behind the rains clever disguise They see no teardops in our eyes [comments] => 2 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Levi [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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