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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 13:58:42 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 40740
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Deity
[time] => 2004-03-29 00:11:30
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => A confession be made that my sisters and I were all sinners. We would kneel to the sound of an open choir Then lose track of the measures and notes of each player. For times have changed, And it won’t get better. I’ve grinned at the thought of a weeping virgin Her tears shed blood and she’d ask for my attention But instead I broke her body into delicate pieces And proclaimed to the world on my success [comments] => 2 [counter] => 164 [topic] => 6 [informant] => Atomic_ [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AngryPoetry )
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