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Array
(
[sid] => 7134
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => My life
[time] => 2002-11-21 07:00:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I look back at my life,
What made me happy? What made me sad? What made me start the knife? I can’t picture one thing, When I was over the moon, When I was in h*ll, When I could even sing. I think of the friends I had, They all came and went, None of them great, None of them bad. I try and picture the one, The one who stayed, The one who’s always there, But they disappeared into the sun. I think of my friends I have now, They all just sail on through, Who will be there next time I look back, I want to keep them but don’t know how. I try and make things black and white, But things are never that simple, They will only be black and white, If I would only loose my sight. I think of the ones I have love, I stare into their eyes, And ask them if they will be there, But they fly away like a graceful Dove. I sit on top of a cliff, Staring out for miles, I think of my life, And I go all stiff. I have no past to be proud of, I have no present to be proud of, I have no future to be proud of, I have no life that I’m proud of. What have I done? What will I do? My life isn’t boring, My life isn’t fun. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 169 [topic] => 13 [informant] => van [notes] => [ihome] => 1 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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