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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 12-June 14:46:17 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 147482
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => poem 28
[time] => 2009-01-17 13:39:18
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Nothing feels real anymore, As if the world was nothing but a play. I long to be free of this pathetic existance, And all the trivial problems that go with it. I long to feel my life slowly slip away from me, Drop by crimson drop. I long to be free. I long to feel happiness, Instead of all the unbearable pain.. I long to feel joy, Instead of all the endless hurt. I long for my dreams to come true, Instead of smashed all to pieces on the ground, At my feet. I long to be free, Instead of bound by a disease I cannot control. This disease in my head. The one that forces me to hurt people. The one that forces me to push those I love far away from me. The one that so desperately wants me to be alone. I am so sick of everything. I am so sick of fighting a battle I will never win. I long to live, Instead of exist. I long to be whole, Instead of broken, Hollow. But in the end, I am all I am. Stupid... Hollow... Broken... Only existing... Wasting space and breath for no reason. Wasting it when someone more worthy could be using it. I long to be right for once, Instead of being wrong all the time. I give up. I want release. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 145 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Lady_Ravyn_Bloodstone [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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