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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 20:45:09 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 183266
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => wargames in the sun
[time] => 2016-06-18 09:04:42
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => welded dreams and broken spears sodden thoughts exempt from fear standards born into the light new recruits to join the fight here, the man in shield and spray at the square, a wall of grey patios of resin cracked enemies whose odds are stacked enemies who come prepared to smite the drunken, older herd. the flag is torn as spoils of war as if its not been done before and Weymouth boys will rue the day those bastards took their flag away The bastards gladiator gear tight shorts & trainers, speed; no beer knuckles covered, training done a thwack, there falls another one. he won/'/t kiss his kids goodnight to think. He didn/'/t want a fight. The tiny army leave the scene of broken bottles, spit and spleen actions spoken never loud in dribs and drabs into the crowd those fat men dying in the sun wasn/'/t it a lot of fun? weren/'/t we solid, weren/'/t we great? no velvet glove, this hand of fate [comments] => 1 [counter] => 106 [topic] => 57 [informant] => poeticjestix [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => war )
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