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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 09-June 16:20:38 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 144267
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => skipping brains
[time] => 2008-07-31 03:41:16
[hometext] => i guess i hurt somewhere inside
[bodytext] => So this is the point the prick as the needle would call a sense of drowning on fluid chocking on past dusts nails sharpened words thrown like midgets hurtful and not right calloused hearts and weakened frowns like a dirty child taken away from the mud pigs rot in our muck but i can not see the sun from here i can not see you from here Why do we play games of twister on mats of nails what is justified what are you points other then in hair that you cover this source this bitter tongue filled with anger filled with teeth i sit and smile as i become more stone rocks roll when things go down i will cover when scared i will crush when cornered i am rock solid i am weak i am a store owner with nothing to sell i am a blind man watching you toss i am the will that i create my bullets reflect my passion steel and destructive faster to fire we speak no more we hardly dance i call you sloth i lost my lust i am losing my grain i am a pebble i am a thrown rock [comments] => 0 [counter] => 212 [topic] => 73 [informant] => lostrelic [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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