August 30, 2009
Walking late at nite with a bottle in one hand,
A broken one,
With a smile in the other,
A broken one,
The manager of that late nite gambling facility,
Winner takes all,
Cries his tears and he has lost and the,
Winner takes all.
He lets the steady downpour of dread form a pit patter,
Hate This,
Screaming and thrashing his fists read,
Hate This,
The clock on the wall of his once owned temple,
breaks down,
Faking a smile he walks inside he,
breaks down,
A friend comes and whisper the words of a lover,
He says, "but this is not ours I cannot truthfully say,
Beside the bedside the table holds a digest,
A reader's escape,
He takes one look at the cover and hates,
A reader's mistake,
He contemplates the hours and the days,
Tears fall,
The rain outside reminds him,
Tears fall,
The neighbors hear nothing but thunder,
He hears the hammer click,

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