Back in the day
We were young
Not children
Nor adults
But young
Hanging out
With dialogue
Without monologue
Heights style
Under peach trees and Georgia breezes
We reset the video
Amplified the speakers
Turned up the mikes
The film has not unwound
Since you are a now a manager
While I perform through dreams
A duet could fill those clouds
Distance may dissipate them
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I write rhymes. I write checks.
Proofs of Purchase
The following thoughts have filtered from a mind that has been oversaturated with images, screams, romance, text, and sounds since The Carter Administration. If you are not satisfied, then I recommend a double chocolate brownie from Starbucks with a tall bold of the day.
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