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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 19:09:25 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 82193
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Trapped
[time] => 2005-01-30 18:30:41
[hometext] => this is about a special character from a book
[bodytext] => I couldn’t run. There was no fun. In this world while trapped in the old. Revolving around my black bile of the old. I was unknowing to my tragedy. All people hunting me with tactics, youth, and strategy. I blinded myself to keep sane. Perhaps it was all the same. In this world of the mind. People don’t need the last gunslingers of past time. In this prison of flesh and bone. Every time I come back to the abyss apart of me screams and moans. In the next life to find peace for, Destruction will burn me to ashes on the floor. (Dedicated to Harm from She Walks These Hills) -For what he would have felt- [comments] => 1 [counter] => 188 [topic] => 55 [informant] => jthzero [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
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