Lost
The Smoke, a passing fancey, unnoticed and accepted.
The Music, as loud as ever and expected.
The Servers, passed around us, undetected.
The Dancers, moving like water, interconnected.
The Lights, flashing on different scenes, reflective.
The Conversation, light and to the pont, deceptive.
The People, serching to fill their lonliness, neglected.
The Drinks, what bound us together; infected.
The Club, where we ran for comfort; unprotected.
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