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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 18:00:22 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 107110
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Its What’s to Do
[time] => 2005-10-05 00:55:05
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => If you could only hear me now Saying all the things you said I’d say somehow Shouting in the inside Down the spiral of the spine to my toes Leaned upon one too many times Rested upon, until tilted on, fitted with a bow and a baton Sincerely yours, was written in the corner The letters burnt, in the fire, coals for chalk-dust torture As different as anyone can possibly get Opposite, attracting negative, force-field of neglect, can’t stand any of it On the balcony with a twenty story drop In a hammock, swaying to music, until the humming stopped The tiniest spot on the floor would be a gift Sift through the collections of an old mans records and things Play the fool to its counterpart Twisted logic, witches magic, the stew burns the pot Do something you can never take back A mark, a symbol, to compensate for what you lack Off we go on another long ride Woke up hazy, in a sleep-bag along the roadside __________________________________________ ________________________________ [comments] => 1 [counter] => 158 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Jyssvw [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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