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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:53:22 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 76622
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => It Hurts...
[time] => 2004-12-20 17:15:52
[hometext] => ... Whatever it is ...
[bodytext] => Based on a lost... something-or-other. I feel as though someone is slipping further and further from me. Hiding behind White picket-fences, Too scared to fly. Unable to move, Bound by Silver shackles, And deep, Mysterious, Dark eyes. Gold-plated silences Threaten to choke, Swallow and destroy. Dressed to impress, Too inhibited to speak the truth. Fleeting glances, Coy giggles, Demure smiles. Trying to appeal to Blind eyes, No longer paying attention, Engrossed in the next Pretty thing who Struts on by, Extroverted and blunt. No games. No back-and-forth. No playing “hard-to-get”. Does that make her Easy? Unlike me. All the things I Just. Can’t. Be. I’m undesirable, Uninteresting, Unwelcome, Unwanted, Un-everything, With the exception of Unhurt. Lost lust, Lost love, Lost whatever-it-is Or could-have-been… It hurts. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 148 [topic] => 22 [informant] => blackmarker [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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