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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 17:53:29 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 61301
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Winter is a Nazi.
[time] => 2004-08-24 23:59:19
[hometext] => Enjoy?
[bodytext] => It's two-thirty in the morning, Life has almost ceased. Crickets are still playing, A serenade for the few who listen. Light silently crashes thru a window, Frosting it cyan. The ivy slothfully rests. Sitting on the fence, As it will always be, Until winter comes. Like a death camp it will spare nothing. Except for the evergreen, Everything but the fire. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 170 [topic] => 27 [informant] => deadreckoning1983 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 9 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry )
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