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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 16:03:46 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 26977
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Day
[time] => 2003-11-12 21:31:21
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => A cold January day. The mourning of the afternoon. The sun cleanly hitting the earth below Through a pale blue sky, Casting shadows and blazes. The promise of a slow and unpretentious sunset. It brings me to peace, Childhood and autumn days, A warm household and happiness. The smell of brick and dirt, The smell of my youth. And oh, I was young once, Heavy with the fruit of life. Then came the sunset. The day was gone, taking with it All its subtle beauty, Leaving me with the night. Now all that’s left to do is mourn the passing Of a day that I can not hold, Not even in memory, So slight it is. And my body will grow old Waiting again for the time When the sun never sets on days like these, When time does not separate a child and I. And so I will wait and be satisfied. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 285 [topic] => 43 [informant] => marina [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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