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$300 rent
The $300 in rent.
The lifelong wait for those monthly checks.
The Top Ramen encrusted pots
beside your squeaky tattered bed,
the springs of which your spine has memorized.
The bedside cups filled with
piss, cigarette butts and any remaining dignity.
The solace that never comes.
The,"woe is me" aftermath.
The Autumn skies are now
void of kites.
Your nostrils missing the
rusty smell of an at capacity
classroom.
Raymond Mitchell Strickland Jr.
2011
