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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:35:24 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 88892
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Stop...Ju--u-ust Stop
[time] => 2005-03-26 22:59:36
[hometext] => That's the catchphrase of the person that owns the home in the poem
[bodytext] => Caught beside a strobe light It's the only blinking comfort In this dead room full of people Who aren't making sense See the clock; it's midnight I will wrap up in a blanket As a means to prove a theory I exist in peace I lie in that old space Where my good friend keeps a clean home He would preserve it all in plastic If he thought he could Another day in this place I could stand a future visit Music sounds fantastic Through the walls of a broken down shack [comments] => 1 [counter] => 199 [topic] => 64 [informant] => TheForgottenMelody [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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