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Array
(
[sid] => 89256
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A New Invention
[time] => 2005-03-29 21:48:09
[hometext] => For who the bell may toll
[bodytext] => November Eighteen-ninty-five God I hate these November rains It's very cold and pelts ones face I picked up the daily in front of the five and dime Going inside for my cup of joe This artical catches my eye I take a sip It takes away the dampen chill For who the bell may toll To some it may seem dumb A new invention I'm reading about I have always been afraid of death I don't mention it to other customers These days few are embalmed For who the bell may toll I like the idea It relives my mind I will get it my mind made up I'm still reading as I take my stroll I have heard stories of some being unearthed Gastly faces of complete horror Hands held over throats Scratches etched on coffin roofs Eyes buldging for lack of breath I ordered this new invention Keeping it to myself Others might just laugh They don't know The fear I have Of being like that I have no intention I take my stroll and read my daily each day I am neither rich nor poor I am retired and paid my dues I have few friends and family lives in Europe With whatever I have I always pay I hate this cold november rain It chills me and my face it stings Paper over my ducked head I never seen the trolly People hovered over me seeing my pain I'm dazed and wet my head hurts An arm I see my arm detached My whole body is wrenched I lose concisness because of shock I hear voices as I lay here in the wet dirt A doctor pronounces me dead Dead ! I'm alive I can't move I can't talk Somebody somebody I just bumped my head They carried me a block to the morgue I couldn't bare the excrusiating pain Carring me like a bag of grain The mortition says we'll bury him tomorrow he has no family NO ! I try to argue I cannot talk laying in this wooden coffin I hate that word I spend all night trying to wake To no avail I'm in this hell I couldn't sleep I hear people walk'en Here he is says the mortition It's sad he has no family I'm not dead I'm alive Why can't I speak Carry him to the wagon Clippty clop I hear on the cobble stone Then I bounce to the rutts of a dirt road The wagon stops Someone please hear "I can't speak" I'm in hell alone I hear a hand drill I breath a little easier I feel a rope touch my nose Hope the invention I want to move,but just lay still Clink plunk plop Their burying me No ! No I'm Alive I'm Alive I'm Alive Stop ! Voices now muffled I hear nothing I panic I can't move I lay here my thoughts all muddled God I pray ! God I curse Satan you can have my soul Anybody Somebody Help I reach and find my missing arm I can move I can move I bump my hear as I lurch The invention the invention I find the rope and pull and pull and pull The air is thin I"m sufercating I pull I pull i pull The rope breaks "what in damnation" Clawing scratching screaming Eyes bugging Panicking I'm dieing Sinned [comments] => 4 [counter] => 197 [topic] => 13 [informant] => sinned [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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