{"id":754,"date":"2013-08-01T20:44:16","date_gmt":"2013-08-02T03:44:16","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/?p=754"},"modified":"2019-04-05T09:29:39","modified_gmt":"2019-04-05T16:29:39","slug":"0801","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/2013\/08\/01\/0801\/","title":{"rendered":"0801"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><img decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone\" src=\"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/images\/082013\/0801.png\" \/><\/p>\n<p>0801<br \/>\nJames, we were always friends<\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s seven years ago today<br \/>\nMy younger brother passed away<br \/>\nJames was handsome, funny, and gay<br \/>\nHe liked guys, he was born that way<br \/>\nHe wasn&#8217;t flaming or clich\u00e9<br \/>\nBut if he was, that&#8217;s still okay<br \/>\nCharming was in his DNA<br \/>\nAnd so witty, his jokes would slay<br \/>\nOften in pain, he would allay<br \/>\nIt with a movie or a play<br \/>\nOr hosting friends with a soir\u00e9e<br \/>\nBut James is gone, and here I stay<br \/>\nWhile sipping on a chardonnay<br \/>\nI think about him everyday<\/p>\n\n<div class=\"twitter-share\"><a href=\"https:\/\/twitter.com\/intent\/tweet?via=stickpersonpoet\" class=\"twitter-share-button\">Tweet<\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>0801 James, we were always friends It&#8217;s seven years ago today My younger brother passed away James was handsome, funny, and gay He liked guys, he was born that way He wasn&#8217;t flaming or clich\u00e9 But if he was, that&#8217;s still okay Charming was in his DNA And so witty, his jokes would slay Often &hellip; <a href=\"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/2013\/08\/01\/0801\/\" class=\"more-link\">Continue reading <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">0801<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[68,36,42,95,109,58],"class_list":["post-754","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-rhymes","tag-drinking","tag-family","tag-lgbt","tag-pain","tag-thought","tag-wine"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/754"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=754"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/754\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1033,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/754\/revisions\/1033"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=754"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=754"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stickpersonpoetry.com\/spp\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=754"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}