Best Bringers Poems

Mr. Jones.
Why did you leave?
Mr. Jones? 
Why did you have to go?
Under chrome and glass, 
through the fire we dance
Dance, the rhythm of an age, 
dance the blues its
Hues run in time. 
Sliver traces arc of light. 
Refrain.
Images refract in mirrored spheres. 
Why? 
Gone so...

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