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Mar 2014
Smoke ring poems fill endless space. Specs flare with red, sights clear as crystal. Thoughts running in a current, crashing like waves, churning up a tsunami just to calm, leaving the ship to sail threw no debris. Poetry turns to scribbles coating space with jibber. Specs blur with fog, sights fade in a haze. Thoughts cease, hiding like treasure, sinking into the abyss just to rust, leaving no riches for you and me.
Sam Barger
Written by
Sam Barger  Missouri.
(Missouri.)   
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