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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 01:13:52 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 91077
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Day and Night
[time] => 2005-04-15 15:34:44
[hometext] => came as a graft from another plant
[bodytext] => At sunrise we are born. We have a new day, which is our life. We have three hundred and sixty five lives every year. Except during that leap year when there are three hundred and sixty six. At sunset we are murdered. When it is dark we are dead. Insomniacs don’t like to die, And narcoleptics are forced to be in constant limbo. At new light we are christened to life, Then always sacrificed when the dark combs over. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 154 [topic] => 32 [informant] => dragonluvsong [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 2 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => SadPoetry )
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