Best Poem of L.W. Smith

Thoughts After Running Out Of Gas
There’s a certain eeriness before light
Birthed from the serenity of lonely hearts

She’s in her kitchen right now
He’s on the floor and wishing hard

A ripple across the flawless plane of silence
Echo from beneath tattered DC sneaks

No station open
Everyone’s asleep

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This Beautiful Slumber
Descending down the hill I see
The cities lights strategically
Placed about the road below
The warm embrace I’ve come to know

The year is new and fresh like rain
As all these thoughts revive again
Subdued from vows I swore to keep
That collect in puddles beneath my feet

Wake up…
Wake up… . . .
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