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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 09-June 15:49:37 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 39568
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => THE BLOOD BANK BLUES
[time] => 2004-03-21 04:12:11
[hometext] => In 1978, for a period of about a year, twice a week I sold my plasma for money- NEVER AGAIN
[bodytext] => I was heading dowm the highway, heading towards the end. I didn't have any money, and I couldn't find my friends. That's the way, that's the way, you know it had to be. I wonder if I was crazy, or was it just poverty? I made it to New Orleans, where my wallet drew a blank. That's why i'm making this "withdrawel," at the local blood bank. That's the way, that's the way, you know it had to be. It was like they were vampires, but wearing white suits. And they were draining all the blood from me! Then they'd give me my ten dollars. Then tell me: "Thanks alot." and say "Come on back, in three more days." ( Seems I got what they want!" ) That's the way, that's the way, You know it had to be. Sometimes you've got to give folks what they want, 'cause money doesn't grow on trees. Now i'm back out on the highway. Still headed towards the end. I figure I can do without the money. If I can find my friends. That's the way, that's the way, you know it had to be. You know them blood bank blues sure 'nuff put a drain on me! [comments] => 2 [counter] => 233 [topic] => 7 [informant] => rhymeandreason [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => HumorPoetry )
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