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The Show
20 November, 2009
Author: Pamela O'Brien

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The music hadn't started yet
But you could taste the anticipation
As the crowd settled in
With their drinks in hand
For a private acoustic session

And though the place smelled of coffee
The beer was good n' cold
So I sipped
And I chatted
'Til I took my seat in the second row

An old man sat down beside me
He seemed quiet & hesitant
His nails were clean
But his eyes were sad
And he smelt of stale cigarettes

Then the stage lights went up;
The musicians had tuned their guitars
They told stories
With rhythmic melody
And their songs haunted my heart

When it was over, everyone clapped
Then most stood up & left
I lingered for a moment
Not wanting to leave
But knowing that I would never forget.....

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