Store (an acrostic poem)

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Selling pieces of his soul was the only way he could get ahead
They were not large pieces, but they all added up
Outside everything was fine, but inside, the echoes of who he had been became a cacophony
Relegating his self-worth into moral bankruptcy
Eventually, he ran out of product, closed up shop, and faded from memory

Junk (an acrostic poem)

Just one more time and maybe I’ll get lucky

Uncle Bart had brought him to the sports card shop

Now he pondered which pack held the prize

Knowing full well that all he was probably getting was…

 

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Pursuit (an acrostic poem) part 5

Pelting rain pounded on Mike’s fedora as he waited

Under a red umbrella, his prey walked out of the shop

Running across the street, Mike tried to get close

Slipping in a puddle, he fell hard to the pavement

Under his breath, he swore as he pushed himself back up

It seemed that the red umbrella had disappeared

The next swears were definitely out loud

 

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