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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 22:07:33 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 75840
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => only friend
[time] => 2004-12-15 00:33:15
[hometext] => this is a short poem, but it means a lot to me
[bodytext] => with a blade in my hand, and blood on the floor i'm unable to feel this pain anymore my only friend is the blade that makes me numb this feeling i never got from the people i love these tears fall to the floor, in which my blood poors though i lay dying, i cut myself some more no regret for cutting myself again seeing the blood makes me glad that i've sinned i don't care if i die by my own hand taking my own life would make me feel more like a man though scared of the outcome of when i die i cut the vain in half as i hysterically cry i play the songs that remind me of when i smiled i haven't felt this good in a real long while [comments] => 3 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 36 [informant] => lonely_boy [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Suicide )
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