Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
||||
Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 22:00:24 AEST | ||
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
Array
(
[sid] => 100806
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => ((Untitled))
[time] => 2005-07-10 21:55:27
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => She can't really call herself beautiful, And she really doesn't fit under lame. She can be quite a charmer, But then again, so can a dame. What she never came to realize, Was the fact that her days were numbered. Cause she was so mixed up, In the daze she wondered. Could she have really prevented her demise? Could she have resisted closing her eyes? But whatever she thought, Didn't seem to mind. Now with a corpse, As her standing stature. She finds that she may have been, A bit too immature. How could she really feel so stupid? You know she hates it, The fact that she died alone. But didn't you say that she was never really alone? [comments] => 1 [counter] => 176 [topic] => 13 [informant] => imagenuinefake [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
|