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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:58:57 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 165710
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Help me
[time] => 2011-04-06 08:33:24
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Food for thought, devour your sole It`s empty tortured, and swallowed Wanting more than a stressed vein or something hallowed You`ve got a shaky handle on things lets all assume While your preparing breakfast in a burning coffee spoon These withered arms have a bull’s eye And you never miss hitting red Goodbye reality, here comes my poison I.V I`m like a burning house I`ve got a fired inside I`m like an old razor I`ve always got something breaking my skin Sending the lamb to the slaughter I`ll take more lines then out of work actors [comments] => 1 [counter] => 138 [topic] => 8 [informant] => cpich017 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AmericanTragedy )
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