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Jan 2018
Thoughts are like alcoholic beverages,
Spirits and aides to our bodies,
You look out of your two-story window and see your car parked on the curb,
Facing the opposite way you parked it,
At least the lights are off,
You ache and writhe around,
Your mind is blinking like the cargo light,
Your eyes sit dull like fog lights,
Your mouth rambles on nonsense,
Where are your thoughts now?
Laying in the back of the car,
***** cushions rocking against your back,
Cold sweat, cold steel, I feel nothing,
Jump start your next thought and give me some too,
Make me feel rude and considerate again..
Tyler James Birabent
Written by
Tyler James Birabent  California
(California)   
113
   Lynn Legend
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