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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:05:37 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 142223
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Universe
[time] => 2008-05-08 10:39:32
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => It is a fact, That there is something named Alex, (Or any other name) Collecting dust (Collecting stamps) Out there. Who I can only envy. But when I "die", I will be a poet of the skies, I will paint red letters in the heavens with gasses. And this also is true, Plants are cruel, And they lie, They wilt and fade away, To make you think that everything will die, Someday. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 214 [topic] => 64 [informant] => Zork [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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