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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 19:58:24 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 176630
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Stale
[time] => 2013-08-01 19:56:08
[hometext] => how I feel about the person I am
[bodytext] => You can taste every piece of me, and know that I'm stale. I'm as withered and dry as a serpent's scale. And try as I might, I still always fail. There's nothing for me in this world but sorrow... I can pick myself up, and dust myself off. But when the new sun rises, I will still feel lost. I do all I can, no matter the cost. And always hope for a better tomorrow... I'm here, every day. I'm fixed where I stand. Drowning, and being pulled under quicksand. trying to grab onto each helping hand. But the assistance can only be borrowed... I'm turned into dust. I'm carried away. I leave with the wind. I'm too frail to stay. I fall apart almost every day. So I drift away into the sorrow. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 114 [topic] => 75 [informant] => ArloDisarray [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )
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