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May 2016
.

I sit alone atop a mountain
my guitar in hand
peering out over the valley below
beyond green patched rifts
playing in the key of lost dreams
fractured chords out of tune with
decisions in distorted decibels
high volume idiocy wailing
as I telecast amplified questions
which now return to me
in the feedback of my own doing
Stephan
Written by
Stephan  Camp Johnson Crossing NW
(Camp Johnson Crossing NW)   
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