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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 14:13:11 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 62904
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Morbid mayhem.
[time] => 2004-09-07 14:46:59
[hometext] => I still haven't told any one about me falling out with mum last night... She's acting like every thing's fine, that's all she ever does. I HATE BEING ME!... I wish I wasn't, 'coz maybe then they'd leave me ALONE! PLEASE READ.
[bodytext] => I need to be some thing that’s real. Not just this some cheap nothing that I feel Others had said to spin my own happy wheel. … Just tell me how, HOW CAN I BE REAL? Morbid mayhem circles at my feet. Whilst fiery hell blasts more heat. I need to find some thing to be. I need to be, other than me. I don’t like this nothing that I am. Because this nothing no one under stands. They think they do, Despite what I say. I tell them to leave me alone! And get out of my face. But it’s not enough for them, Because they just don’t under stand! … So I won’t talk to them. About why I’m sad… Where’s the default, In not wanting to speak. They do more harm that good! And they can’t help me any way, ‘coz I’m a FREAK! Why can’t they just accept it, And then leave me alone? But one doctor’s all laid back, While the other says I shouldn’t live at home… [comments] => 3 [counter] => 168 [topic] => 65 [informant] => deathdrop [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => toughstuff )
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