Vegas

She had the Vegas of notions

About what she wanted

So she gambled on random

Got a row of lemons

The house always wins

Now she’s part of it

Chipping away at freedom

Calling hit me, hit me

And she cuts and she cuts

But only on the surface

Vegas is so superficial anyway

There’s not a lot of depth to that place

Except in depression

Or small pockets

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

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