Thursday, April 9, 2009

ali's Corner. [Rhyming Rhythms]

The time.
It's like a flame on the end of a lit cigarette.
Ashes flicked to the ground -
another cherished memory.

The black debris smashed
into the cement can stay there permanently.

Each shared inhale is met with a laugh.
Best friends.
It's like a drug.
Like the warm breeze
on a summer night.

Cigarettes stay the same.
but the friendship grows
just a little more each time we meet.

BFE
4EV

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