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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 12:19:01 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 627
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Mother
[time] => 2002-07-17 20:15:21
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The movements were established, the routine set and routinely painful.
Get in the car, baby, we’re going to work. There was no more comfort in the world. I was sick with sins. Why did you do this? It’s your choice if you want to give yourself away. You can’t choose for another. I forgot how to feel during one of those times when I was crouched down low and the lights were low, One of those times when I lost a piece of my soul. My consciousness is erratic, and I see myself like film rolls, With you as some insane director, snipping and splicing until it’s all one scene. One thing is another and I realize I’m stuck in the loop you shoved me in. I hope you’re happy. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 245 [topic] => 21 [informant] => skinny-little-punk [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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