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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 03-June 06:27:59 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 4969
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Competition
[time] => 2002-10-12 11:15:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The whistle blows
and I am on the court, scared and anticipating the ball that sores over the net that I can't reach while it fly's right past me onto the floor. "One Point!" Tension builds like a volcano, gritting teeth, waiting to explode. Why can't I just do it right? People watch but are unable to see the competive game I am having with myself. Messing up the rotation, mistakes reaccuring. My heart sinks as I fill with loathing of my inability. We start to come back, taking the points while I just watch, uncontributing. I am losing the fight, we're winning the game. Such a close call. I can't handle the stress. Who needs it anyway, forget that. We won regardless, but somehow I lost. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 149 [topic] => 25 [informant] => Jax [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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