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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:16:26 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 37088
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Cycle
[time] => 2004-03-02 17:16:43
[hometext] => not so much a poem as a memory.....
[bodytext] => I lay broken, all alone. My sight is clouded red, but still I can see the blade. I gaze into nothingness as the blood begins to spill. I feel it running down my hand; dripping to the floor to mingle with the tears I've shed. Slowly, I find myself surrounded in red. Liquid pain, flowing from me, Leaving me numb to all around me. Soon, my red turns to black, and I see nothing, think nothing, am nothing. As I take my final breath, I wake to find myself in this living hell again. Slowly, I will heal. Only to begin the cycle again. Exerpt from; Twisted Mind-- The Diary Of A Suicide [comments] => 1 [counter] => 185 [topic] => 36 [informant] => Elf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Suicide )
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