Array
(
[sid] => 54361
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Under The Rug
[time] => 2004-07-01 10:17:57
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => A small fading flashlight lights the way for my pen,
Highlighting dim blue lines on a poets empty page,
Soft hum of vehicles on the highway echo through the night,
Lightning bugs fill the air; setting the scene of eves stage.
The radio’s filled with words of loss, sorrow, and regret,
A citronella candle slowly dances warding off the bugs,
Miss Charlotte dangles near the window, waiting in her web,
Reminders of a cherished childhood now swept under the rug.
It’s hard to believe that I could forget this peaceful place
Just run off from reality and seek refuge in a world unknown
And though at times I miss the innocence; the feel of purity’s grace
Here amidst the memories just no longer feels like home.
[comments] => 1
[counter] => 176
[topic] => 21
[informant] => Dragons_Of_Rose
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 9
[ratings] => 2
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => Lifepoems
)
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