A crowded room,
sickly sweet aroma
of coffee
falls like ribbons
all around me.
The twang of
an acoustic guitar,
chairs scraped closer,
and we all lean in
to hear the music.
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Poetry, Prose, and Thoughts for the mentally exhausted, the morally intrigued, and the late night internet surfer hopped up on caffine. For you with strained eyes, a tired soul, and rhythm in your heart.
Copyright2009/2010/2011/2012-DeanaFreitas
"All work is original unless otherwise stated. I reserve the right to edit, revamp, or otherwise delete any past or present posts. Why? Because it's mine, dammit."
"Repost by permission only. No joke."
Got a natural, down to earth feel to this one. You're not becoming a country song writer are you? (not that there's anything wrong with that)
ReplyDeleteLove this, I could see it. :-)
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