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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:59:36 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 1266
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Survivor
[time] => 2002-07-28 20:32:53
[hometext] => A couple of war poems to start off with
[bodytext] => The melting mass of mutated man
Struggled forward spouting blood, No bright coloured shirt he wore Just a pattern etched into his chest. A blue scar marred his orange neck, Peeling flesh his deformed face, As from the burning fields of ash He crawled , blinded by the light. But no-one came to his aid To treat his toasted skin; No-one, because There is no-one No living thing is left ! ©Rosewing [comments] => 2 [counter] => 175 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Rosewing [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 8 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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