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Array
(
[sid] => 97538
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Ill Fated Matinee
[time] => 2005-06-10 11:05:13
[hometext] => This poem is listed under Insomniac poetry because I wrote this at 4 am one day.
[bodytext] => I signed up for happiness, but I wish I could have reconsidered. I did not realize that blood would be spilt upon the floor, that this matinee would cosume me and devour my very soul. The bright lights have allured me into a world I knew nothing about and now I am frightened. All I hear is yelling. All I feel is pain. All I see is torture. We are all frightened of them, what they could possibly do to us. They are driving us quickly towards our graves. They have broken our spirits, which is all we have left. They make us preform for their ill minded pleasures and it sickens us. We want to go back. We want to escape this torture chamber but we can never go back now...it's too late they've already taken everything from us... our hearts our minds our hopes our freedom and our souls entirely All that is left of us are empty shells of what we use to be We have become slaves to the stage and we will never escape. Even if we try to run and hide, it will always allure us back to it. We will always be in a fantasy and we will never know true reality ever again. A tear runs down my face as the as the curtain opens and I must live through my hell once more time. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 503 [topic] => 60 [informant] => night_goddess666 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => insomniac )
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