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LJ May 2016
A splash of money
These notes I hold pay for my dreams
A devotion of forgotten past
The lost sorrows

A soilder of truth
The guitar we play produces the streams
A light that is aglow
The embraced morrows

A heart alive embers
As the saxophone tenors strike the ribs
A symphony of life
The future we swallow

A mind aroused
As the didgeridoo flutters
A wind of love
In the sound of the sparrow

— The End —