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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 01:04:23 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 38142
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Worth of Poetry
[time] => 2004-03-10 19:37:18
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => It's 12 A.M. My head's on the desk, And in my hand, a pen. Only waiting for a brisk idea for God to send. When it hits me right then and there, Do these words get heard? Does anyone know of my loving care? I sit all night, alone, In dark, a single light dims I ponder the thought, Is it worth writing of my own sins? Do people really sit to think and stare? Do they take in the words i have to share? Or is it a waste, A simple act of haste. Would it matter if I wrote of love Or about the peace of two doves? Or does this phrase fall on death ears. Only to leave this here prose unheard? It disturbs me to think That my time spent with ink Shall not be worth My efforts on this dear earth. But with a quick glimpse A plain and simple sight I come to realize, That these words, are not for another to see, But from myself To the one and only me... Thank you YPDC... [comments] => 2 [counter] => 274 [topic] => 45 [informant] => morelikelyrics [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => group )
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