Joey Smith Poems

Lay me, in a solitary grave yard.
Where no one has been laid there before.
I wan't a tall square grave stone laid on top of me.
Lay me under a sicamore.
...

How I long to see your face.
You know I would come visit you.
I would fly with the wings of my heart.
But you broke them in your hands when you left
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Memory lake

Remember when we carved our names on the rail,
Back in our younger days.
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