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BMS Poetry Club
Poems
Nov 2012
Jukebox night
Staring out into the stormy winter night
in one of those old-time diners
The jukebox tunes the only thing keeping me alive
I've been tripped and trampled on for far to long
this is the end of the line, a dead end
The song comes to an end, and the jukebox is silent
I'm out of change
The music dies with the jukebox
By: CB
Written by
BMS Poetry Club
Lee Land
(Lee Land)
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