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These broken in cards shuffled by broken in fingers,
Slapping and sliding together effortlessly.
These cigarette stained hands gently set the deck down,
With no thought at all light up one more cancer stick.
The smoke lingers on with no motion or purpose,
It hangs in the air in search of an exit.
No way out can be found in a windowless room,
With a solitary light bulb that flickers because of age.
The light makes a silhouette on the wall,
Blurry from the smoke no movement at all.
The old cards are shuffled one last time,
Slapping and sliding together effortlessly.
-Jacob Burns
