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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 20:51:46 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 89742
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => His ways
[time] => 2005-04-03 10:35:05
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => He writes poems, rides horses grabs me with all his forces. He’s acting, playing, saying he’s free to be what he wants to be and he is. He sing songs on his guitar, he’s willing to go quite far, become whoever he needs there’s no one he has to please, but himself. He’s riding trains, playing games carrying on with his hippie ways, he smiles wide, talks sharp, he’s got a way with art and all it’s splendor. He captured me with a timeless air, old soul and a piercing stare. With a way he sheds tears, while playing a part, but no one is in doubt he suffers for real. With a way he’s never goanna change no matter what age. With a way life scares him, deep down but he awaits it with an open arms. His immortal in all his spirit, boyish but wise, strong but frail, with a kind, bright heart untamable like his black hair. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 141 [topic] => 55 [informant] => enamat [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 6 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
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