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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 14:14:18 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 110489
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Unprotected
[time] => 2005-11-27 23:13:41
[hometext] => the seasons are metaphors in case you didnt get it
[bodytext] => The crisp air against her fingertips sensed the season of winter A season which everything dies and nothing exsists A season so cold every bone in her body shakes And ice covers the roads she'd walked for so long This season of raw emptiness and the complete reveal of the naked secrets protected by summer Some say this is the best season of all The truth unleashed everything left vulnerable But sometimes even the gentlests of truths can cut to the bone leaving you waiting for summer to come back and wrap you in its warmth, If only to protect you for one more season until the next winter wind blows it away and you ,once again, are left naked, Unprotected [comments] => 2 [counter] => 183 [topic] => 21 [informant] => MorbidDeath [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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