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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 18:42:13 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 17200
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => biterness
[time] => 2003-05-07 21:35:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I’m the east and she’s the west
and in my feast, she’s all the best as I lay among the dead fresh like a maiden in her bed. In a blink of an eye, she flies. Beyond my grasp, she dies. We talk prose as we get overdose and I would be richest, if I was paid for every word I wrote for her... But it is easy to say what is hard to do. I just wish that I’ll die before I will again cry for you. I wish to fly, to where I will never again miss you. Envy no man with a thirsty heart for a drought soul. There is no fact, only the way you act... [comments] => 1 [counter] => 193 [topic] => 13 [informant] => wazarov [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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