Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Until They Vanish

Rolling hills that once went on for miles stutter to a stop,
interrupted by industry, with slender, skeletal fingertips that wrap around the wild, wide world and snap her struggling throat.
Money trickles but it never rains on the deserving,
and the children grow weary before they’ve even left their mother’s wombs, because they know they only exist to edge the pennies into the slots and watch them tumble down until they vanish.

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