Aaron Yengo-Kahn

The Game


He walks into the store.
Life is such a bore.
Sweat drops off his palm, splattering on the floor.
 
Hands shaking like a great quake.
For the first time in a while, he feels awake.
 
As he eyes the aisles, the prize is in sight.
Slithering over without the slightest fright.
Scanning the area like a falcon he is all right.
 
Swift as a breeze a devil hand snatches the prize without a sound.
Concealing it without falter, in record time he’s homebound.
 
Like playing Monopoly this is just a game, for him.
For some a living
For others a passion
For him, it’s just a game.



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