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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:51:00 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 121174
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Crucify
[time] => 2006-06-02 17:23:09
[hometext] => Randomness...
[bodytext] => Feel like bleeding on the ground Without making a sound I'll suffer in silence I won't sick around Feeling like taking my own life A forfeit for yours Tell all the papers It was for queen and country As my blood rolls down Making lines on your skin You'll understand The evidence is clear My breadknife told me You didn't let go You wouldn't let me go And this is my hospice Your kitchen floor I declare my own Sovreign property And burial plot I vomit tapes from the Eighties and you play Back out lives as Mine runs to the hills One arm extends to the Right and one to the left Legs cross over And my crown of toothpicks Carved out eyes And holographic Face stares into Evermore everything And sees the final lie you Spin to save your arse And laughs Well, I might as well... [comments] => 2 [counter] => 172 [topic] => 13 [informant] => somnium [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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