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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 18:01:00 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 410
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Writer's Block #2
[time] => 2002-07-14 15:28:39
[hometext] => My first poem in this little nook where I'm going to shove my poetry... I wrote this poem when I was making no progress on a story I *wanted* to be working on. viola. and *sheesh*
[bodytext] => The tip of my pen impacts the paper, Waiting for thoughts to come. Show me where greatness comes from And I'll be just as good as done! A thought of art without the deed, In a stagnant waste of time - How can it be that all my stories Are some sacred illusion of the mind. All good stories come from the heart, But the heart is kept locked away. Too much sadness for it to experience Here, it's buried for a better day. So busy yourself with other people's work, It keeps the darkness at bay - Or is it truly what brings it in And keeps your own soul away. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 160 [topic] => 25 [informant] => ceru [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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