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I'm going to give you guys something, and I hope you like it. It's a poem I wrote about two years ago. It goes to Rayne, moreso, because I never knew until I met her who the woman in the poem is. (It's not a sexual thing...it's more of an idea)
I like the idea
Of after hours
When the city is just getting quiet
But beneath the ground
There's a buzz
It's the sound of feet
On a smokey dance floor
The sound of drinks
Clinking against formika tables
A soft huff from the exhaust of a fast car
I like the idea of a city at night
Where yellow taxis
Cruise lovers back to pads
And office men that are late
Getting home from work
I like the sound she makes
When she enters the room
Creeping quietly
Across the floor
Her bare feet relaxing
From tall platform boots
Made out of steel
And polyurethane
Her perfume lingering in my mind
Like subtle hints of a dream
I like the dying
Of a night time city
When the sun is stretching slowly
Waking up in the sky
It's the sound of bakery shops
Just opening their doors
And the smell of coffee
Invigorates my new dream.
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By the time you're twenty-five they will say you've gone and blown it. By the time you're thirty-five I must confide you will have blown them all
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