Lottery (an acrostic poem)

Living day to day, depending on his luck for sustenance

Orbiting his need for money and his need to be creative

The two pulling in opposite directions, their tidal forces ripping him apart

Today was a day where art and hunger went hand in hand as he painted

Every ounce of his imagination was placed on the canvas stroke by stroke

Revealing a mixture of magic and his soul, bound in sweat and paint

Yet it didn’t sell, leaving him destitute and feeling like he lost at life

Bones (an acrostic poem)

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Been shaking the pair in my hand and wondering

Obviously the way they land is random

Now that wasn’t an appealing thought

Every ounce of him wanted to believe in luck, that now was his time

So when they came up snake eyes, he knew he had been right