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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 13:51:47 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 35057
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Unshackle
[time] => 2004-02-15 05:56:05
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Leave me here. Want to be left. Not to die...(or to be born) but to understand the thing I said, why such words flew from my breath. My tounge, I thought I knew you well... I forgot how honest I can be. Many friends, I lost through words... stange.. the same way they were gained. I come to ask myself... am I real? My words are just a deception of my fickel perception. I listen hard, or so it seems, to my friends, and to my dreams. That thing you wrote? Was it true... I thought you meant every word you said.... or like everyone else were you imitating. That night, before we were interupted... My tounge spoke truth, you were bewildered. Now I write, things I should say.... but I couldn't bare to lose another. Why am I crying? [comments] => 1 [counter] => 245 [topic] => 43 [informant] => broken-glass [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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