Hollow (an acrostic poem)

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He was sick of feeling empty inside

Only self-pity seemed to fill the void, and he knew that wasn’t healthy

Looking out over the storm-tossed ocean waves, he wondered what to do

Love felt so far away, somewhere out there past the emotional gray horizon

Of course, even if he got out there it might not help

Walking away from the water, he tried to convince himself that being full wouldn’t feel all that great

Chance (an acrostic poem)

Converting luck into action

He tossed the spinning dice from his hand

And as they flew through the air, probabilities spun with them

Not collapsing the distribution curve until done with their dance

Cascading all possibilities into a single outcome

Everything random transforms into fate

Cube (an acrostic poem)

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Cognac on the rocks was her drink of choice

Until about three in the morning, then she would bounce to bourbon

Both ice cold, just like the blood in her veins

Especially as she tossed the dice one last time with everything on the line.