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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 12-June 06:45:52 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 156609
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => College so far
[time] => 2010-01-09 16:22:45
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => A prison liberates us all, but still it is a prison A realm in which a universe is possible is confined within a room A wasted landscape, all is viable The infinite array makes fools of poets Indeed, there will be time Too much, one can argue, or not enough, To discuss the paper and ink That turn to dust as the great eye watches Blowing our particles, doing it’s job Soup is ready, the planets turn and collide Seperate organisms occupy the space Left by the butter that we used the last of yesterday That we all enjoyed, while the black emptiness lurches forward Going about it’s usual business Isolation is of itself a peculiarity Both existent yet not One can wonder why in a space of time Anything can mean everything and yet nothing at all. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 145 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Gloria123 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 8 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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