the night I met Deana

Black ice paints the forlorn roads 
Smiles fade as tires slow 
Sitting in a bar, alone
I have nowhere else to go

Poetic words born from rum 
Napkin wrapped around old gum 
I revere a gentle strum 
Unable to see who from 

A familiar face across the bar 
A smile holds his mouth ajar
Beside him shines a golden star 
I ask them who and how they are 

We drink, we laugh and we talk 
The bartender points to the clock 
It's time to go, we have lost
The right to drive, now we walk

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