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Array
(
[sid] => 90052
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Perfect wears a mask
[time] => 2005-04-05 22:30:01
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => sall a girl once, everyone said she was perfect. There is a music box, it sits up there upon your shelf. It's painted with pretty colors, and plays very lovely music, and there is a tiny figure of a lovely dancer who twirls around and around.But all she is, is a piece of wood, made to look like something else. (But sometimes we forget that.) Smiles can be painted on easily. You don't have to feel it to say it's true. And just about anyone with a voice, can say that they love you. And sometimes pretty colors can make an ugly place seam almost beautiful. But under all of that makeup, is the decay of something physical. (And physical things cannot be perfect.) The tree's in the fall change colors, and everyone walks the wood, to catch a glimpse of their brilliant beauty before it's gone for good. But when the leaves fall to the ground, as lovely as they are, no matter how you look at them they will always just be scars. Of something that has been dying, and will not live again till spring. Pretty colors cannot change that, they just make death nicer to see. Striving for perfection, will always be the same. Someone who is lovely, wearing nice things, trying to be funny, trying to stay sane. Hiding their dreams, covering up who they are...with colors. Pretty things. I sall a beautiful girl once, everyone said she was perfect. But perfection wears a mask. [comments] => 5 [counter] => 170 [topic] => 13 [informant] => ForeverAndADay [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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