7PM

I step out of the car into the warm summer night
It's still light outside, there's no need for street lights
This is a poem about 7PM

Thru the back door and into the basement
I see one of the windows is open so the moist air can be vented
This is a poem about 7PM

The music is loud and the bass is rumbling
The old neighbors 3 doors down are sitting in their house, grumbling
This is a poem about 7PM

The party has just started and no one knows when it will end
People are too busy flirting, dancing, chatting with a friend
This is a poem about 7PM

I might not get home till 3, sneaking in like I've committed a crime
But I'll deal with that later, not now; that's a story for another time
Because this is a poem about 7PM





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