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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 14:55:21 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 53034
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The things you'll miss most
[time] => 2004-06-21 15:31:12
[hometext] => Food for thought
[bodytext] => Withering away. My dust has begun to flow like sand betweeb a childs fingers. Sore and aching im ready to leave on my journey. Ive let this build up inside of me for too long. I have faded. Brown tone with peeling skin. Its seeping out and turning me red. The angels sing their perlude. The lights flash then flicker. Out like a light. None of this is real. Or atleast thats what I recite over and over in my head. Ive begun to miss my dreadfull life. The harpers harp and the blacksmiths wife. With one long strife I could make it through. But the absence has made me unique. No will to return. Im butter for the churn. Hopnig to be in hell were I will burn. Only to yern for someone like me. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 164 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Mortis-Dark [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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