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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 16:16:52 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 176069
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => My friend, my enemy.
[time] => 2013-05-17 09:22:25
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Its odd, this happy feeling. Born from who knows where. Its awkwardness is empowering. Is it a perversion of truth? Or a perversion in itself? Perhaps a perverse delusion. Deep down i should feel sorry. But where i once felt a hollow storm, I see hope, a place to rest. Even a stone of course texture, Cold, a grinding stone for flesh, Under weight of bone. Provides me comfort enough rest my head. Never before this feeling. The one without a name. Who are you to be the light that breaks, To make me the east, when i am where the sun sets. How dare you search me out in the darkness. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 126 [topic] => 21 [informant] => MickyTwo1984 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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