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Sunday, December 14, 2008

A thought on history

The stage lights barely register through the smoke
as he picks up his guitar, tuning it down too far.
His voice dark like night rises from within
a hunched over chest hidden beneath his cowboy vest,
he pulls a weathered western hat over his gray eyes
an audience his only fear but he wants them to hear
the words sporadically penned on a grease stained napkin
pulled together by a simple melody; a thought on history.

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