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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 22, 2008 20:26:16 GMT -5
Haha normally the teachers do stuff like line the chairs of the typing room down the metal staircase outside, or turn all the chairs and desks around. But not this year. How sad
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 22, 2008 20:22:38 GMT -5
Good ol' New Zealand. lol
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:44:09 GMT -5
F comes after E right?
If so Elaine.
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:43:06 GMT -5
lol I always do the semi-colon smiley-face, instead of the equals D one.
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:25:50 GMT -5
Daine.
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:23:42 GMT -5
Kenneth
lol
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Faves
Apr 21, 2008 22:23:07 GMT -5
Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:23:07 GMT -5
You betcha haha it was meant to be a smiley-face, except it's sad. Awwww.
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:21:02 GMT -5
*shrugs*
I have a thing for war I suppose. The Great War, not WWII. EVERYONE does WWII.
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:18:15 GMT -5
<a href='http://morgan.ponybox.com/horse_page.php?id=384597'>Mystery Keeper</a>
A link lol
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:17:31 GMT -5
Ham steaks
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:16:30 GMT -5
www.ponybox.comYou own virtual horses on there and compete them and stuff. It's kind of hard to get started but once you've got over 10k you're home free.
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:15:10 GMT -5
Okay now I'm listening to And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda by Pogues.
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:14:12 GMT -5
lol funny word.
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Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:06:20 GMT -5
LEST WE FORGET [the first war poem I ever wrote] On the shores of Gallipoli, where the poppies sway. On the battlefields of Vietnam, where the bodies lay. In the jungles of Congo, where time stands still. In our homes, in our hearts, remember we will.
JUST OVER THE PARAPET [the second] Just over the parapet Amongst the bodies and mud Creeping through No Mans Land There comes an audible thud.
There's a beast of prey a'stalking With unwonted care Just over the parapet Just over there.
FOREVER He tips his hat at that rakish tilt And parades with that joyous jaunty step I have seen many the same go before him And not one has come back yet.
Off they go with many a laugh Boys trying hard to be men They ignore the ageing buildings, not knowing That half with never see them again.
They are lain to rest in peaceful slumbers Peaceful after perishing in mud No tears are exchanged around their graves Only poppies the colour of blood.
The Lord chooses the innocent to die So they shall not see horrors unfold "Age shall not weary them" For they shall never grow old.
Forever nineteen, forever a child Forever so gentle and plain They will not know that the War goes on And that their deaths were in vain.
ARMENTIERES The war has dragged on for years and years Destroying our hopes and feeding our fears We are the war, it's cogs and it's gears We run the show at quaint Armentieres. “Mademoiselle from Armentieres, parley-voo" We sing our grim songs just for you We love quaint Armentieres, yes we do "Hinky-dinky parley-voo."
THE SEPTEMBER BREEZE [my personal favourite and, so far, best one!] The September breeze is nice and fresh As it blows in across my flesh Brings tell of Winter, bleak and cold And whispers of comrades who shall never grow old. Eddies the surface of congested men Caresses corpses prone in the fen Makes patterns from artillery smoke Carries the laughs from a crude soldier joke. Touches the surface of shell-hole sleet Brings French rain to us, so oblique Men move forwards, sub rosa they say How many thousands shall die today. The September breeze is nice and fresh As it kisses my ruined flesh Brings tell of Death and mothers' tears I die aged only sixteen years.
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Apr 21, 2008 22:02:43 GMT -5
Post by My Cursed Syndrome on Apr 21, 2008 22:02:43 GMT -5
Avril Lavigne is cool
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