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Array
(
[sid] => 167138
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => rambling rows
[time] => 2011-08-27 14:34:19
[hometext] => not sure about the ending on this one
[bodytext] => Same bricks, different people All the same, yet different. Equal Knowing how it used to be Makes me judge so easily I think of places, people, faces. I bend down to tie my laces. Looking up, I see the bull. The ones I know not there, yet full. Laughing people, not my kind I walk on by and can’t unwind. The sun soon down but it’s not dark, Around the corner to the park Where tramps converse in their own way Shouting, laughing, pale and grey. I stand observing at the gates Wary, as the light abates. I hear a sound I can’t ignore Sirens, police cars off to war. Silence follows, I track back Knowing that something I lack. Onward up to the old town Crooked slates and bricks of brown. Rushing!- I slow, for I’m not late through a viaduct, so great, many arches, many bricks. A mighty structure, tall and thick. I look on it with fear and awe, a train goes by to the south shore. It’s windows bright in evening pale, few passengers at night on rail. I walk on through, my footsteps lost as a stream of cars are bossed By traffic lights that don’t make sense. At quiet times, no consequence. Yet red is shone, a line awaits for seconds, minutes, changing late. And then the line extends at speed As if all joined by bungee lead. I pass the place of my first kiss. It is still there, though I’m not missed. A tiled floor just as before, reminding me of a closed door. But freedom means that broken dreams Are yours to keep, they keep you deep. I fail to stop and take a turn left towards the place I learned. At my old school , I was a fool, always following the rules- Respecting elders ,fearing power. So much grass there, but no flowers. I read a sign outside the gate. KEEP OUT. It's in a right state. Demolition will be done. the local youth would find that fun. I pass this place not knowing if I’m sad or not, you get my drift? Many streets passed like before. Night time arrives, the siren war returns at distance, coming near. I really could murder a beer. At last I find the hidden place. The place I barely show my face. I knock and wait, my bag in hand. I know that she will understand. Embarrassed as I tell my mum It’s over, relationship done. She looks concerned, opens the door Just like those many years before it's really low and really cheap but my pockets aren' that deep but before I rest my head I pay by saying what was said and listening to good advice silence right now would be quite nice. Tonight will be a time to think though I would sooner have drink. Same bricks, different people? All the same, yet different. Equal? [comments] => 0 [counter] => 138 [topic] => 21 [informant] => poeticjestix [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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