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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:25:04 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 111771
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Hangin’ with Satan
[time] => 2005-12-19 17:15:16
[hometext] => For the record, Satan (in this poem), is clearly a metaphor. I do not worship... anything... I however wanted to suggest that the object of this poem is a bit destructive for me. How better to do this than nickname it Satan? ;)
[bodytext] => Been hangin' around with Satan again, my very old and trustworthy friend. Bathed in the sun with angels akin, and made up a new, delicious sin. He ran his fingers through my hair, and grazed my lips with fingers fair, I sat between his legs in a chair, he played me like a cello there. But Satan understands that time, has no patience, rhythm or rhyme. The sun fell on the horizon's line, and the moon left me cold, wishing to be blind. See? This is my torture, my inner trials, that dance at my side as Satan for miles. Purge reminiscing, and find new convictions, for my fantasies must have their evictions. Such would be a sweet baptism, to cleanse my mind of that organism. But then again, I'll hold onto my sin, and hang around a little more with Satan. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 459 [topic] => 76 [informant] => shanna [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 7 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => obsession )
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