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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:09:04 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 158320
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Friends
[time] => 2010-03-21 05:38:27
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => ‘Elise, Elise!’ They scream quietly. You won’t get out! They taunt me and point With their blades for fingers, And poison for words. What they see through cameras, Is a girl in a home That is made out of straw, It must be bricks! As I can’t break down this door, They’ve locked me in And placed in cameras and mikes, Monitoring my despair. My second night here, In a room that is bare. Without a breath of fresh air Or a drink to swallow ‘She’s doing a dance!’ they cackle As side-to-side I stumble. Around the room I do this, Then finally fall to my knees. She’s dropping! They say. Drop dead. What great friends, they seemed. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 143 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Amelia [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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