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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 19:00:49 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 100406
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Life
[time] => 2005-07-07 03:54:26
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Walking along the rail way tracks, in the middle of the night, moon on her back of her jacket, no light for her, she felt the train come straight through her, like a summer breeze, she had lost sense of reailty, many days she didn't know if she was dead or if the trains are just figments of her fractured mind. All she knew was that she loved the nights, the stars, the moon on her back, just her....and the night. Leaving behind a life she knew. Or that she didn't want to know. She longed for home, she longed for scotland, the america of britain, she place of hopes and dreams, where myths came to life, where they were ashamed of their heritage. The field of heather and lavender.... [comments] => 2 [counter] => 186 [topic] => 31 [informant] => harlot20 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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