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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 20:45:54 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 4086
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => My Last Forward
[time] => 2002-09-20 22:04:37
[hometext] => I wrote this after a week of being bombarded with forwards in my internet mail box.
[bodytext] => A forward I received today,
the same one I got yesterday. I'm cold-hearted the e-mail said, cause a little girl that may soon be dead has a final wish for people to know that's she'll never have the chance to grow. Well, that's a sad story my friends, a story that all our grand illusions ends, except of course for the grandest illusion of all, the illusion that we can answer Love's call by sitting in front of a computer screen forwarding e-mails to people we haven't seen for months at a time, but never drop a dime, to the bum at the corner, as he asks for a quarter. This idea that a forward will save our souls is just an illusion that closes to God the doors of our hearts but keeps us warm near our hearths while self-complacency throws on us its binds as we sit in front of a screen and close to the world our blinds. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 248 [topic] => 25 [informant] => Corruptor [notes] => [ihome] => 1 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 9 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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