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Ode to Our Spot
A hidden little nook,
A place for our friends,
Wishing to prolong the time.
Past thick green pines
And trespassing signs,
That’s where my tranquility lies.
On the forbidden cliffside
Of a stranger’s yard,
The view would shatter your eyes.
It's not past dark,
But you can still see stars
Behind scarlet splattered skies.
Cracked screens stay hidden
In the pockets they’ve been in,
Plastered right onto our thighs.
No cameras that night,
Bickering nor fights.
Just watching the burning ball die.
Then we try to rest,
Through the nicks and the pecks
From famished mosquitoes and flies.
We sleep up there,
Wake up and stare
At the almighty promise
Of a brand new sunrise.
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My friends and I found this small clearing years ago. It is after the ends of every trail that goes near it, and it is our special spot. Granted it is technically someone's property, but we don't talk about that.