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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 17:17:27 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 154291
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Pietros 4
[time] => 2009-10-21 06:01:47
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => And now she dropped her eyes down to the small glass of wine she held, and she swirled the contents around in circles as if trying to make up her mind to tell me something that might change our relationship. " I have a son who’s seventeen. He works with me in the back part of the bakery making the bread and pastries. His father was killed by the Germans in the last war." " What’s his name." "Salvador. I call him Sal. He’s a good boy and never gives me any trouble, but now he tells me he wants to be a bull fighter and I am so scared he’ll be killed." " Many brave men have wanted to be bull fighters. Many have gone on to be very rich and famous." " But I am scared and besides, Sal makes good money making bread and he doesn't have to fight bulls. He’ll have the store later when I am ready to give it up [comments] => 0 [counter] => 204 [topic] => 16 [informant] => ramfire [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FriendshipPoetry )
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