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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 18:11:16 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 134548
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Gunshy Butterfly
[time] => 2007-05-21 02:50:40
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Gunshy Butterfly The silent lead shot through her wings at greater speed than light, her colours bled and tears shed long into the night. She fell upon a bed so soft made of grass and white rose heads, stained in blood of blues and reds, Covered thick of wings in shreds. She would not be tamed. Her heart so black would not be claimed. He took his aim right through her wings, now sorrow’s all her angel sings. The silent lead lay still and cold deep inside her corpse, the gun lay also by her side screaming brainless thoughts. It reached out far with armless urge, Helpless it watched the colours merge. Out it cried with eyeless pain, screamed with soundless, mouth less shame. Now it is inane. There she rots beneath the rain. Dead is her mind Her beauty Her fame Black, white and grey remain. Leave her there, that useless figure Taken by the blindest trigger [comments] => 2 [counter] => 343 [topic] => 71 [informant] => GemmaLouiseRose [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => secrets )
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