 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 13:39:05 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 89462
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The King Of Junk
[time] => 2005-03-31 11:13:07
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => He was a king (King of the streets.) He wore crimson. (All he could bleed.) He spoke fancy. (Made up his own words.) He may die bravely. (At the end of sharp words.) He was the King of The Wastelands. He walks with his head held high. (Gets hit in the chin with garbage.) Says he owns the earth and sky. (All the while they laugh at him.) Those who were once his loved ones ask him why. Why he won't just give up... Forfeit this rewardless life. He told them it was his place, He was not about to give up on it. He really was a king once. (His kingdom stretched farther then one would be allowed to believe.) He kept things fair and beautiful. (Owning a place inept of hunger, violence and greed.) He was an excellent leader. (His subjects loved him so.) Then the bad thing came. (And he was left weeping in the dust, suddenly alone.) And now what is he King of? Just alot of dust and junk. He's a garbage man... A lonely man... He's broken, tarnished, faded and scuffed. But still he holds his strangled face up high... Still says he owns the earth and sky... Still refuses to give his world up... Is it just for a bunch of busted stuff? King of The Wastlands Of broken Dreams, Of ruins, And of tarnished things... But God... What I wouldn't give... To see and believe... What he believes. DNB [comments] => 3 [counter] => 170 [topic] => 13 [informant] => ForeverAndADay [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com