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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:24:16 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 58697
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => oxymoron of me
[time] => 2004-08-03 10:58:49
[hometext] => they didn't really have a catagory for this one
[bodytext] => Some other place is the grey it is not of this plain but I sleep there sometimes boring and filled with things to do I hate it there but I love to visit it's where I go to die and be born again holding my dearest possessions that I don’t care about I gently sit in that nowhere you know I am here but you cant find me I’m in the middle between the dark and the light sometimes alternating but never stationary a pulsing silhouette, from the shadows to the sun am I the grey takes me there all the way to this precious meaningless nowhere thinning out, fading, becomes transparent, gone now, but ill be back [comments] => 2 [counter] => 175 [topic] => 25 [informant] => ethdrumsed [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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