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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 13:38:47 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 114480
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Beauty In The Dark
[time] => 2006-02-08 08:52:51
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The flowers move so suspiciously at night. Poking at the setting glow In the western sky. The last glow of fallen heroes in the Setting sun. Though she is not a butterfly, a moth can be So beautiful. And when dust has fallen to night, The cereus and angel's trumpets Will call her name in Careful whispers. To her duty, she gives the flowers life, So we can see them each morning, As they are. Always-- So beautiful. For the moth, there is no sight, no nod, No acknowledge of. She has already gone. Lowers her head into the bark To disappear. She leaves the stage with modesty And slips behind the curtains, Almost in shame. Yet always knowing that without her, they won't survive. She had her midnight show, and the moonlight to be Her only audience. The dawn has broke, the butterflies rise And the sun will glorify their Existence. And the flowers have already forgotten Who kept them alive. (comments please) [comments] => 1 [counter] => 183 [topic] => 73 [informant] => themonk [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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