It hasn't snowed for weeks,
It's been still.
Out in the middle of nowhere, at a casino.
There's flashy machines perfectly columned in a smoke filled room of the most boring yet most insane people in the world.
You walk by, each machine grabbing your attention; the loud noises and flashy pictures pull you in.
Oxygen is pumping in the room and out of the small window you see that the night is calm, serene.
The oxygen keeps you awake just a little bit longer as you bet a little bit more, surely your luck will keep you going.
You spend all of your money like it's nothing.
You take a quick look, the night is ending,
You have no idea what time it is anymore and you don't have any money and you have no choice now but to leave.
You take your pennies and go home but it's been so long that you're stuck in a snowstorm.
You're stuck.
Now you can't go home.
YOU ARE READING
Berry Tree
PoetryA book of poems, scrambled thoughts, and endless stories. A bit mysterious, but that's the fun of it. You make the story; you imagine, and wonder. Each page is like picking a new berry from a tree.
