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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 12:31:48 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 8040
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => disappointed
[time] => 2002-12-06 03:20:00
[hometext] => there is nothing i can say that will make this poem any good.... i am sorry to inflict it upon educated folk such as yourselves
[bodytext] => when my blood pours from my veins
i press the blade and wonder "am i happy?" rubbing salt into my cuts i hope that i will die, but i know that i will live. living is so painful, an arduous way to die lest i speed my execution... will they find me in a bath? in a bed? in a dream? will they miss me as they slowly die themselves? can i start my death sentence? string the words together, to strangle my cries for help... [comments] => 2 [counter] => 217 [topic] => 36 [informant] => ashleigh4 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Suicide )
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