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Array
(
[sid] => 75844
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Restringing A Guitar
[time] => 2004-12-15 02:16:15
[hometext] => This is a Prequel I guess to my Purple Ribbons Poem. It is Four AM my time so please do mind any mistakes
[bodytext] => You can see him walking alone again With his face painted like mask of a Goth Prince He is wearing a long black silk shirt Long sleeves with a metal band on it I knew it covered up the truth He had been cutting again His hair was longer and thicker now And his eyes were funnily blue But he still did not feel whole He still missed her by his side And would continue to cut Even though the last time he almost Died being taken to the hospital for stitches Fifteen stitches on each arm He went to the store and bought new strings for his guitar He had broken them all the other night When he felt like crying and cutting again So he started to play her song on the roof top After a few hours he was bleeding from his fingers When they broke he always kept them around He would make a necklace from the strings like she had shown him He bought the strings and then went to meet his twin sister for dinner They went to the club where my band was playing I am the lead singer and play the bass He use to sing with us before she died After she did he could not get his voice to sound the same Why I don’t know maybe he felt that everything he had Special in him was her, but it is just not true We had been playing together since high school Well they ordered their regular and had a few drinks They talked about him singing again and when was the last time That he went to visit her at her grave site He had told her that had not for a while because he was moving and what not But he promised that he would go as soon as he was finished After they were there for a few hours it was time for the club to close They kissed and hugged and promised to meet again the following week They left the club and went their separate ways He walked back to his apartment and on the way it started to rain So took shelter under a roofed bench where the water could not reach After like an hour the storm calmed enough to let him go back home So he ran as fast as he could as if it was for his life He and the rain had made an agreement That if he would get home before the sun rose That he would play for her again So he got home and started to restringing his guitar When he finished he got up on the roof top and started to play again For that rest of that night it did not rain again [comments] => 3 [counter] => 185 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Doriens_Picture [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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