Nightmare.
Alone.
They approach you.
Masked men in black.
All you can see are their eyes.
Somewhere they are ashamed of what they are doing.
They grab you.
Put a hood over your head.
Into the van.
Racing to the airport.
Where are they taking you?
Why are they taking you?
This is not supposed to happen here.
This is a space where I have a mid life crisis, write about my creative journey, and talk about songwriting and share bits of terrible poetry.
Nightmare
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My Piano Needs to be Tuned 
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