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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 09-June 15:46:59 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 6623
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => The Quarrel
[time] => 2002-11-13 14:30:00
[hometext] => This one was just for me...If you're a poet ,you'll understand what I mean.
[bodytext] => I quarrelled with my Mother.
I don't know what about. One thing lead to another and we just fell out. The start of it was slight, The end of it was strong. She said that she was right, I knew that she was wrong. She wanted me to listen, understand her point of view. Instead I slammed the door leaving her there to sit and stew. Words were left unsaid, Moments, precious few. If I'd have only stopped and listened I wouldn't be telling this to you. About the time I should found the courage or willingness to say, Mom, I'm sorry and I love you, Today and everyday. Copyright ©2002 Jacqueline Ann Coyne [comments] => 2 [counter] => 195 [topic] => 25 [informant] => bebeedawl [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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