A long and twisted poem about taking a walk and finding something quite interesting. |
-Scratch Away- by Keaton Foster The other day I was walking down the street Dragging my knuckles Bruising my left and right orbitals Looking at the ground Further whispering sacred sounds Speaking in rhymes to of course myself Preparing for another day Of both pen and page Finding inspiration within The confinements of such desperation And absolute isolation As I walked along I spotted something quite strange Luck many would dare say But of course not me As I always do I would just call it Happenstance for the screwed Laying there at my feet Was a scratch off lottery ticket Freshly printed, seemingly unmolested Not a single stain or a bur out of place It was quite simply perfection It was as it was purchased And then dropped to serve a purpose Other than the one it was meant for There was no convenience store around No old men, downtrodden and neglected No orally fixated rurally refined ladies Spending their dead husband’s pension There was simply nothing but the ground The clouds and the world all around At first I refused to pick it up At first I wanted to have nothing to do With such implied chance I just stood there and wondered Not of what could be for me But rather what could be for someone else I waited, I wondered, and I hoped That another more deserving than me Would come walking by and find it In the same pristine condition as me But as seconds turned into minutes No one, not a soul, not a being Could be seen within a hundred yards of me It is often said that curiosity killed the cat I like to add my own twist and dare say That curiosity murdered the human being I knelt down and picked it up Careful not to damage it in anyway I walked on my way Further enslaving inspiration in every way Only when my mind was full And I had all that I needed to fill the page Did I do an about face and head back home Back the same way that I had come When I reached the spot where I found the ticket I stopped and paused for a brief second Again I looked around in every possible direction Trying my damnedest to spot another being One that was preferable looking for a lost Unscratched lottery ticket that could be worth Something greater than anything I am comfortable with I could see no one, not a person, not a soul After a few minutes I continued on home As I reached the corner out front I knelt down and placed the lottery ticket On the ground in a spot that I could observe From the window in my writers den I figured that someone else needed the luck Way more than a man like me For many days and many nights That ticket laid there unmolested Unscratched and possible uncashed Then finally one darker day A passerby, a child, a boy Stopped and spotted the ticket Hesitating as what to do That passerby, that child, that boy Stood there for what seemed most of his youth Then one day he knelt down and picked it up He studied each and every detail Never once removing a coin to scratch Never once facing down the odds Instead, that passerby, that boy, that child Took that ticket and ripped it in half He carefully placed one half in his pocket The other half he placed back on the ground He then turned and easily walked away Never again would I see his face Many minutes turned into many days Only when the threat of rain came Did I make my way outside to the half ticket I knelt down and picked it up Like a madman I scratched away Fearless with regard to my fate My half of the ticket said you’re a winner I can only wonder what the other half said… Scratch Away Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |