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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 20:22:50 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 53892
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Spit
[time] => 2004-06-27 12:09:41
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => And the Gods said to the creaton Beast what maimed you And whots courage did ye find to bring you to here Ye were made of after birth And cow tongue Who told you not to run Ye was an accident Of a drunken conception We of the golden rule Need not of ye's intolerable Ignorance We just want you to leave Go, Go Ye mucky slime of oder Leave before our patients lag Only those of the brighter hour Are called amoungst our present So go A go But my lords Said the dumb beast Shut up you filth Not a word is yours This is the gathering of the gods Who has called upon you And with the shame full eyes of what he is, he steps back, trying to regain his compossure Small pools of salt and hurt Glissen the shine of doubt Ye best answer this counsel Before ye's head is severed From your pitifull existance Small pools dried Ye fathers and wives Have sent me to thy death A death that prouds me so So by the time my head touches the Earth Ye gods will be gods no more HE LIES, yells a member OFF WITH HIS HEAD KILL THAT F... WE ARE THE GODS................ ...and with the departure of the mooks head... [comments] => 1 [counter] => 157 [topic] => 31 [informant] => rhei76 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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