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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 01-June 12:31:30 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 91396
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Cellars of me
[time] => 2005-04-18 19:50:52
[hometext] => Life is a bore, everyday, day after day
[bodytext] => A flock of dead birds all tucked in my bed a choice of cold words chill thoughts in my head black feather of taste bring air to my pores my life is a waste along my bed sores i wake with a shout and a yawn of despair but what's that without the bugs in my hair bite me disease i need to be cold life is no ease nothing grows old then wait.... then shiver... shine your light in the darkened sea corners of you...cellars of me [comments] => 1 [counter] => 185 [topic] => 13 [informant] => In_a_While [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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