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Array
(
[sid] => 55965
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => 5:00 am
[time] => 2004-07-13 09:21:06
[hometext] => this is weird i agree maybe it somthing that only makes sense to me...
[bodytext] => It's 5:00 in the morning i'm not saying that for poetic reasons it really is i'm tired yet i cant sleep... i'm just wishing my eye lids would close in on me and absorb me in a world of make believe i dont know why reality has consumed me so early it's just me a dark figure of negativity in a yellow room somtimes i feel like this room is the inner core to me or a simile or somthing like that painted yellow on a whim of hope hoping to see the brighter side of life like waking up to the sun every morning but the dream was destructed by the rain that i always here the rain that ruins everything i think this reflects alot about me i dont know if i would class this as a poem maybe a trail of thoughts... it has a slight defiance not to ryhme i like this this is my statement life doesnt always flow this piece is like a description of the struggle life brings i see ryhmimg as a allusion i often ryhme it's part of my designs i write almost everyday in a hope i'll discover the real me poetry is a window to the soul a relief to the tention its 5:11 now and im going to just lie still in simplicity i know i wont find the sleep i seek because suddenly i've never felt more awake [comments] => 3 [counter] => 157 [topic] => 59 [informant] => loopylou [notes] => (Poem edited for spelling as requested) [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => psychoticpoems )
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