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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 21:32:52 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 175579
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Close Your Eyes
[time] => 2013-03-28 02:38:19
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Why does it seem that these papers bleed red from the things I've seen and what the talking puppets said... ...about a distant past moral instinct to trust and love... until it is broken, and the ground these tears have shaken. The child smiles without reason a gift for some passerby yet the notion of peace is treason when innocence is not believed in, or has it been long forgotten by us so weak and downtrodden? I promise when the walls crumble that I will find you somewhere among the broken stones and a happy memory we will share. And when we hear the beating drums pounding in the street, we will feel them in the deep places and taste metallic when we see the fear on their faces... but I will look no longer through the all surrounding haze, Ill close my eyes, and dream of better days. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 182 [topic] => 64 [informant] => scribbler5 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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