Array
(
[sid] => 151227
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Mistimed Generation
[time] => 2009-07-02 10:29:50
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Five years
One thousand, eight hundred and twenty five days
Infinite memories and heart-eased pining
Entwining and defined feelings unspoken,
Unsure,
Sure,
Unsure,
I’m sure I’m unsure,
And within a pocket ’tween the chaos that fuels my fretfulness,
Perfection of life is here,
Or so it would appear,
I’m ‘okay’ and it’s wondrous,
The icicle of this fervid perdition,
Twenty nine years
Ten thousand, five hundred and eighty five days
Before my time.
[comments] => 1
[counter] => 157
[topic] => 2
[informant] => creactivity
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => LovePoetry
)
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