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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 12:09:41 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 178014
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Bittersweet Indeed
[time] => 2014-03-24 14:29:55
[hometext] => An observation on relevance
[bodytext] => He cleans his own scraped knees now- I don't get to ask him where and how- I don't pour peroxide, bandage it, My boy's a man now- his wound, his fix. Tending and being tended by other hearts and other loves, I'm on the back half of the train now, Still on board but less part of. Sadness could consume me, For I hear less of him with time, But in the way a train runs Traversing varied climes; Some are cold with chill, Other's hot with life's abundant thrills, but in my time here on earth, There is not one thing to equal My son's birth. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 117 [topic] => 23 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FamilyPoems )
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