Array
(
[sid] => 123944
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Glistening Agony
[time] => 2006-08-01 05:48:09
[hometext] => In it the spectre is me, the dark copse are my friends. It shows my manner, although it may seem easy-going, is a sort of farse a to what I truly feel. At the end I show that its too late for me to change as people have already made their opinions.
[bodytext] => Echoes of lost whispers slowly reverberate,
As a plebeian spectre roams through the dark copse,
With mannerisms described only as sedate,
A hint of apathy lining every crevice,
Too well known it never stops,
And etched upon the silky outline - hate,
Misguided in life to be treated as a novice,
Now gliding through what seems like fate,
A knowledge too hard to break,
Understanding how much is at stake,
To find that it’s far too late.
[comments] => 1
[counter] => 141
[topic] => 48
[informant] => shady1503
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 2
[ratings] => 1
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => EmotionalPoetry
)
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