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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 21:57:11 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 42057
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Time Itself
[time] => 2004-04-06 18:28:53
[hometext] => Do we really have enough time...
[bodytext] => It passes and it goes. Never to be sought after again. One moment in time. The sound the clock makes after passing the hour nine. Creeping suddenly in a corner of gloom. We reach nine. The hollow footsteps repeat moments of old. Running out. Stunningly we gaze. The hour passes. Time is time. We seek it for our own. We never make the most of what we have. I crave for more. This is place where you can smell the food, but cant touvh the silverware. Another moment in time. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 143 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Mortis-Dark [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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