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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:03:16 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 39740
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Dying Whisper From The Sick
[time] => 2004-03-22 06:42:46
[hometext] => I have been sick, coughing incessantly for more than 96 hours and each cough it makes, it echoes off the walls and back to my lungs to holler once again and again and again. 4 doctors ... herbs.. medicine.. inhalers...
[bodytext] => When the heart- it pounds with dying breath Each thump it makes – a silent struggle As it aches and coughs with bitter vehement At the ugliness and façade of the life we lead. Those smiles that can resurrect a dying man And the laughter that revitalizes a withered leaf, Shun my pale, rasping lips that yearn for salvation From this clinging reins since the beginning of Time, That we call- sickness. Yes, I am sick, Sick of sickness That reduce my life, To nothing But emptiness. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 307 [topic] => 61 [informant] => cherangele [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => selfstruggles )
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