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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 20:13:29 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 176389
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Hole
[time] => 2013-06-27 18:48:26
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Silencing, swiftly ceasing aching heart. Grey days people with the faces of mules. Worn out, spent, crows tearing carcass. No dreams, no tears save them for the dry soul. Am i alone in this high castle? What beast made me, or did man do this? Where is God? Under which unturned rock? Is he you that fears no death? There is no death to fear, we are the dead. Let me kiss mouths bearing life, maybe they will remind me. How is the touch of fire or ice, where is the gave on which knotted mound will i lie? Amongst the madness, alone. Vacant eyes, stained glass weary world. Spare me a drink my veins are thick with something bitter. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 133 [topic] => 61 [informant] => Tferguson [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => selfstruggles )
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