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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 19:04:11 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 166990
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Screwed Up
[time] => 2011-08-14 11:49:29
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => There's a screw in my hand, and my hand in a jar. It could be a wedding ring, or love, or an estate. Maybe it's wealth, or a deed to a shack in the caribbean. Perhaps it's happiness or purpose, but it's probably just a screw. I dare not let go. I'm not sure what I'd lose. I'd like to see, But my hand is stuck: A car wedged in too tight from parallel parking. A game of tug of war. A shoe you can't pull off your foot. This jar is a prison. A locked grey cell. A cave with a collapsed entrance. Whatever's in my hand could give me joy. But, outside of this jar, YOU are there. Jehovah, why should I hold on? After all, It's only a screw. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 138 [topic] => 43 [informant] => tecnorobo [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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