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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:16:13 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 154979
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => kil him
[time] => 2009-11-12 22:59:01
[hometext] => some thought after my fathers fall
[bodytext] => The truth is ... I don’t know, why I’m here. In this house of cards, witch with one touch, can destroy, all that matters. To me, I ware my robe, for all to see. I do NOT hide the stains of blood and vomit, witch are specks of distant memories. As I flip and flop on my side, a voice calls my name. Until now, no one has called me, by THAT name, my name. Is it God? NO! He was never here or there or anywhere, it’s always shadows with him. But I won that battle. Now I sit and wait, for a light breeze. So I can leave this house of broken, memories. The sun still rises and, sets. Some people, just slip on the truth. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 233 [topic] => 13 [informant] => b_lee [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 19 [ratings] => 4 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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