RAGE AGAINST THE (VENDING) MACHINE

I’m pounding on the glass that doesn’t give

Like on your door that never opens up

Despite the hours spent on hitting, kicking, tearing up

I feel like tearing up this wall like sheets

Of paper like the bills it took from me

Each payday paid to play and pray

With lights above my head, so thankful for the bread I eat

And money left to buy these treats denied to me

Denied, like nights I cried when you were gone

Beyond the door I passed before with you

And waiting for the turn of knobs and creaking locks

While waiting for a drop of letters, maybe notes

But now I’m waiting for the drop of candy bars

Upon the metal floor, something sweet to treat

This present hunger in my gut. But,

This hunger in my heart can wait.

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