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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 16:08:39 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 82241
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => WHAT WINTER HAS TO OFFER
[time] => 2005-01-31 01:00:50
[hometext] => well this is kind of based on a somewhat personal expericnce if that makes any sense whatsoever, half of it has happened
[bodytext] => Persistent I was Getting on his case His drugs were in the way Of life’s small, simple pleasures But tonight was something different When the doorbell rang at dusk Immaculate was his hair Unkempt for so long His wrinkled shirt And tight corduroys Replaced by a tuxedo of starch His blue eyes they were crisp Usually hazy in the face of drugs He’s a locus eater; that one Forgetting of his home Tonight he whispered in my ear “You are my high” And held me dear I watched us from afar Someone gazing down from the peeks Of a high school gymnasium They danced to the beat of a jazz band And his hand trembled. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 159 [topic] => 51 [informant] => pinkflurojacket [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Event )
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