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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:10:31 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 140320
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Gave
[time] => 2008-02-09 18:55:20
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Paul come down from that tree "I comando que usted consiga abajo; soy tu padre" you vile little boy with deformed taunts and eyes of primitive puncture. I'll have to wait for infinity to bring back my parasite; she has her own child. I'll pretend to care inside harmonic museums and oscillate asylums. I'll be found wasting my time with desecrate men on top of that tower where you found De vinci dissecting his shoe. No es tan extraño that life reminds you of the fact that your glass is still half empty. (gone) And Paul will be found howling inside that urn [comments] => 0 [counter] => 157 [topic] => 8 [informant] => SomeDude [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AmericanTragedy )
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