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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 17:40:21 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 154037
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Selective Memory
[time] => 2009-10-13 06:04:14
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Why am I here in this padded room? the brightest of whites but full of gloom, I have a family and friends I couldn't ask for more, Yet I'm being held captive in a room measuring 4x4, I scream and cry for my little boy, These teary eyes he once filled with joy, There has been a mistake I have to be set free! My darling wife and son are waiting for me, The door opens but a needle is shoved in my arm, They say its for my own good, to save me from harm, The pupils hit the back of my head as the nurses slam shut the door, I awake with a bloody knife with my wife and son on the floor. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 309 [topic] => 8 [informant] => theurbanpoet [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 9 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AmericanTragedy )
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