Array
(
[sid] => 157153
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => This same routine is the blame
[time] => 2010-02-01 11:08:02
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Feeling mute, mundane
Opaque is my vision
And I think routine is the blame
Immune to the assume...
I wonder no more
Seen too much,
Been there too many times
My everyday reasons become
routine like rhymes
Admired, adventurous, amusements
don't appeal
I only believe in what's in front of me...
What is feasible
What is real!
Like
Paper, pens and pads that tool
my deepest sentiments into
sacred scrips and scraps
That mean nothing
But mean everything.
Words dancing on platforms made
of lines on paper
To every thought there is a dance
To every thought I was in a trance
What a bliss to reminisce...
Sometimes
Feeling great now
Clear is my vision, my destination
Can't wait to get on with my day...
and routine is the blame.
[comments] => 1
[counter] => 264
[topic] => 48
[informant] => angelfox
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 4
[ratings] => 1
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => EmotionalPoetry
)
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