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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 14:53:07 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 167810
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Farther
[time] => 2011-10-12 19:00:52
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => A simple ad across the screen of a classic father daughter scene. Him holding her tightly like a father would, so happy so right. My heart has pictured this scene ever since I was a young teen. Yet my heart feels not the warmth of memories but blight. The ad is of a day that many hold dear and celebrate with cheer. My father is gone and dead, never to know me again. I can never share another happy day with him, that’s clear. So I will sit and try to remember him without his sins. But who am I to cast stones? The girl who’s last words to her father were that of cold and hate. The girl who can only scream sorry at a bag of bones. I can only walk forward and see what awaits. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 116 [topic] => 48 [informant] => Cyndal [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
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