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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 13:43:53 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 99424
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Box
[time] => 2005-06-27 13:49:29
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Made of a fabric That no hand can re-create. Covered in chains... Shrouded in silk drapes... Shadows touch The Corners... Of the light... Still far too insignificant to face. There are people hiding in there somewhere... Not everyone you've ever met... But those you consider important enough to be there... Tucked away... Sometimes chained down... In a week or so... Some of them will no longer be around... You may curse them... Or wish them well... But mostly you curse them. You can give it away... In pieces I suppose... But you must be careful of whom you give it too... It's important to choose... Because some people will keep it... Up atop a shelf... And some will toss it aside... Think only of themselves... And you have only so many pieces to give. There's a faint rythm in the box... Like drums...or the ticking of a clock... But unlike certain watches...or pieces of music, which never really die... No matter how many times you wind it... It Will Always Have To Stop. It's just a part of life. The Box. DNB [comments] => 1 [counter] => 170 [topic] => 74 [informant] => ForeverAndADay [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => surreal )
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