Array
(
[sid] => 184187
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => UN a MUSED
[time] => 2017-05-22 00:05:13
[hometext] => Flat out of ideas.
[bodytext] =>
What is left to write about?
Everythings been said!
She’s left me uninspired to pout;
My muse has gone to bed!
So I write about the ceiling!
Or pen an ode to socks!
My brain must be congealing;
Unlocking all these locks!
Ill write of things you cannot see;
But I see them you know!
Im losing my reality;
Let go of me, dear Poe!
I must check every corner;
My only hopes to find;
My muse in time to wake her;
Before I lose my mind.
[comments] => 4
[counter] => 109
[topic] => 69
[informant] => softerware
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => poets
)
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