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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 09-June 20:19:16 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 153041
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Motive
[time] => 2009-09-10 02:41:08
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Glancing at the carriages as my train caterpillars by, pausing silently to see your face. Memory of you but a sprout of yesterday. It's been a year thrice since you left. They recommended burning all the shoeboxes where I keep you alive. Carefully pushing me along to advance, progress, through this labyrinth, this life they call my mess... Six revolutions of earth. Nostalgia no more transparent. Affections paced back and forth but none of them as you. I digress. A decade past your death the winter of this reaches blindly. We are separate train wrecks now yet your face still haunts each breath. -Svw [comments] => 0 [counter] => 134 [topic] => 22 [informant] => Clayman [notes] => Corrected spelling as requested. Moderator_18 September 10, 2009 [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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