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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 21:56:59 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 169038
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Work
[time] => 2011-12-05 09:48:18
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => In a box, papers pinned to the wall looking at the clock waiting anxiously for time to advance... Babies crying, people talking, phones ringing, the world going on around me As I sit here in a trance... Sitting in a uncomfortable chair... Punching the words on my keyboard as at my screen I stare... My name being called, emails to be sent... someone needing something Out of shape I'm bent... Tick Tock, Click, Clack Papers ruffling, doors slamming Feet stomping as I sit in this box There may be a time or two When one comes to see me in my cell... But only to complain, I hate my job Or the latest Gossip they tell... No one real in this place Everything is just a front... We all walk around just being what they want... Sadly here I come to daily and where most of my day is spent... Well what can I do I must pay the rent... There is a place in between the hours where there is a moment in time... Where I feel like this isn’t so bad I know I can get by.... Then reality hits and again I am faced... with the truth that I really hate this place... [comments] => 1 [counter] => 129 [topic] => 43 [informant] => vr2776 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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