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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 16:31:04 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 104483
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => And what now, do I tell my grandchildren?
[time] => 2005-08-27 09:11:55
[hometext] => (For Munty)
[bodytext] => He takes her hand and starts to lead her out onto the green, grassy field, Soon, they're running together up the hill, the day is bright, but is still fresh with morning and sweet innocence. The boy and girl climb and run until the hill becomes mountain and rocks appear, cool, grey rocks. The edge is in sight, they pick up speed, they laugh, their hands held tight she closes her eyes; three more steps one, two, the fall over the edge, air whooshing past her ears screaming freedom her eyes open, her hand is empty the boy stayed behind she sees the sea below she crashes it hurts. -Beth B. 2005 [comments] => 1 [counter] => 182 [topic] => 48 [informant] => BethB88 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 8 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
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