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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 09-June 18:44:59 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 4258
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A plus F
[time] => 2002-09-25 15:30:00
[hometext] => (In an old writing class of mine, our assignment one day was to look at someone across the room and write a poem about him/her. I love re-reading this poem, knowing that I was staring right at this girl and smiling as I wrote it.)
[bodytext] => She flicks her lifeless hair,
A mutilated fur coat, Rabbit’s fur dyed brown, As dead as she is. Her clothes seem to blend in with the backdrop, Faded colors in a comparative glow. Hell, anything will shine under those eyes. Vapid pearls with their long-lost luster, Stuck to a clock, Counting down to the hour, When death begets dying. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 215 [topic] => 6 [informant] => billyspfan [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AngryPoetry )
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