RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Playing Slots - Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Looking around at all the flashing lights,
hearing the sounds of slot machines egging
people on, urging them to spend their money
on exorbitant odds, making them think they're
going to win the jackpot or something more.
Yet, when all is gone, the game over, what is
left of the fun?
Nothing. Not even the rent money.
Comments about Playing Slots by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.