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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 23:09:32 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 112933
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Your Change, Sir
[time] => 2006-01-10 18:14:21
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => He stared, stared, and stared some more. Trapped in a room without a door. No outside light, just darkness, And an empty kind of hopelessness... He took up a quarter, all that was with him, Drove it into his eyes to gouge them out. Blood poured down his still cheeks. He felt nothing, except that the emptiness had started to fade. Break the glass, that encases your veins. Let them warm, then turn again to frigid ice. Decaying, out of a hole crawl mice. They run to him as if they've never had food. Gnawing on his flesh, nothing ever felt so good. His lifeless eyes spark at the pain, Knowing he is human, that he's still in this game. He thinks he is smiling, in fact, he is sure, In the face of the rodent, he sees his dear mother. But the mice think he's gone crazy, and they too are gone, as their hole closes, Silently, again the quarter Replaces all his feelings, He cannot choose. At least pain is an emotion, But the numbness will not lose. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 172 [topic] => 13 [informant] => assassinatorgirl [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 7 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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