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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 22:04:22 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 82952
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Blue Daffodils
[time] => 2005-02-04 10:25:13
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => she, obviously, lost her head. now, she's keeping the stone in her hand. when she was destroyed after the call, people outside could not help but ask. she has set the dinner table with a spoon and twenty knives, used her precious glassware and best china. people outside fear for their lives. but it's not too bad, she smiled. she looked out of the small kitchen window, to her garden of broken lilies and blue daffodils. then the phone rang. people gasped for clean air. she tiptoed under the table, covered her ears, closed her eyes. an earsplitting alarm. a gold ring falling from her finger. a piano fading its keys. people covered their ears, closed their eyes. she lay, hot as a newborn, but with a stare as cold as a corpse. -Rae '05. 011905. Wed. 8:16am. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 189 [topic] => 39 [informant] => Rae [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief )
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