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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 21:27:23 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 11842
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Last Rites
[time] => 2003-02-02 19:04:28
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => When you're dead and gone, maybe I won't feel
Like I have to be perfect, or made of steel When you're dead, a smile will cross my face As I won't have to feel, the shame and disgrace That you have made me feel, for most of my life The obsessions I've had, because of the emotional knife you have held to my throat, still I go back for more You always get in, no matter how many doors I put in front of you, you seek out the scars That never truly heal, and you dig right in Stab me to death, or make me feel like I have sinned I'm always weak because of that, but it doesn't really matter You think it's all fun and games, as my self esteem shatters One day I'll put it all to rest, and it won't hurt me or the family I have, and then I could be Truly content with life, satisfy my thirst But the only way I'll be at peace is if you die first [comments] => 1 [counter] => 190 [topic] => 6 [informant] => Darkscorpio [notes] => [ihome] => 1 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AngryPoetry )
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