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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 20:09:55 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 130933
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Unicorns
[time] => 2007-01-24 02:12:09
[hometext] => Unicorns?
[bodytext] => I Stubble on my past, Like a present from my scars. And all the tears left on my wings neither glade nor fly. The stars is my home but the closest I ever came was an picture: Memory, empty, with nothing but a faded light, But it extraordinarily captured the paramount times their. (Page Turned.) An ink of a creature created my existence. I’m nor horse; nor bird but an unicorn, Trying to find a new chapter. But every step taken pauses a breath of laughter. “I don’t belong here!” But why would anyone answer to ink? Hours turn to days. Neither chapter nor sentence Has been found. It seems every breath is a cry of a regret. Suddenly a man walks upon my shadow: You’re not real but a tale with an ending. You don’t belong here. You’re not real. Reply: If I’m not real why am I standing next to you? [comments] => 2 [counter] => 213 [topic] => 55 [informant] => SomeDude [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 18 [ratings] => 4 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
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