The Brothers

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Eight tracks and underage,
hard rock for the teenage,
one summer eve, surrounded by kings.
They rolled their tokes,
shared loose smokes,
and bragged, of sweetheart flings.
I watched all night,
as they pal and fight.
Curse, and say foolish things.
Like “Play it again.”
said my uncle to a friend,
as we sat, listening, to those guitar strings.
.
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