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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 13:53:09 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 152487
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => green-thumb
[time] => 2009-08-23 06:00:19
[hometext] => silent garden. . . refugee. . .
[bodytext] => . . . the creek that rises from the floor more pleasant than your slamming door. the space around the emptiness more calming the less I burn. . . our bridges burnt, all monotone & fall to shallows, spoiled & spurned. . . & boxes, overfowing with the lessons that I've learned. the box you tried to put me in, cramped, with unsought care. why can't I love? what's fair? what's just? the contraband acquired from us. . . will certainly turn up some wayward trail. . . amid the mist of travesty to tread heartache. . . to tread. . . to no avail & within insecurities, peeking out beneath the trees as seedlings stirring in the breeze, in time. . . I'll grow. . . I will . . . I swear. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 147 [topic] => 73 [informant] => elle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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