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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 09-June 23:21:52 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 12155
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => water
[time] => 2003-02-08 03:00:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => All the colors and sound,
Crawling along the ground, To a point, time stands, Slows its float among action of hand, Under the flowers, slipping like sand, Head and foot, motivation, Screaming the carrier at the underground station, Get to where you have got to be, Why you should is not known to me, Spend each day a blaze with a reward to be free, All the time with generality, A reality of stale thought, Where time becomes the vacuum, Called the spot, Or the stain, solutions, the insane, Walls in my mind with who to blame, Who I am, a product that is one in the same, Assembly line life, riddled with strife, I know no such salvations, from a world of tiny nations. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 149 [topic] => 25 [informant] => plous [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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