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Claw Machine

TaJuan is an aspiring writer hoping to gain experience and growth through publishing passionate works, like this one, online for the world.

Imagine you are a kid at an arcade,

And you had earned your weekly allowance.

Handfuls upon handfuls of quarters,

You thought you were the richest kid alive,

And saving was never an option.

All of the games looked so alluring,

So tantalizing,

Like air to the drowning,

Or food to the starving,

And you desired to play them all…


You came across this toy:

A dog with a sky blue hue,

Appeared fluffier than clouds,

Perfect for cuddling,

More beautiful than anything you have ever seen,

Something that only ever existed in your dreams,

Yet has found its way into your nightmare.

It was trapped inside the claw machine,

And you knew

It was destined to be


Nothing else mattered,

Though there were a sea of other games,

Swimming comfortably,

Ready for play,

Begging to be played,

Waiting for your touch,

Potential beautiful memories

Slipped through your hands like sand


Nothing else mattered;

You needed that toy.

You put in two quarters,

And maneuvered the claw perfectly above the prize,

Your prize,

Your future.

You lowered it and

You failed.

It slipped from your grasp.

You needed to be beyond perfect.

Though a slight drip of sweat formed on your forehead,

You refused to fret,

For you had plenty of quarters,

Plenty of chances.

Plenty of time,

For time wasn’t a factor.

It never is when you’re young.

You tried again,

Result was the same.

You tried again,

Same result.

You tried again,

At a different angle,

Again, no dice.


No dice.


No dice.

You tried again and again,

As your pockets became lighter and lighter,

With no fucking avail.

Some may ask,

Why wouldn't you attempt another toy?

These are the same people who have never been

In love.

You are now drenched in sweat.

Your attempts began to become worse and worse.

Your eyes began to take a bath,

While your mind melts.

You felt your sanity slip slowly,

But surely.

You needed her.

You needed it!

I meant it.


Tell me you win at the end.

Tell me this is the part of the story

Where the hero,

Against all odds,

Through the holy assist by something beyond them,

Comes through at the final act.


Tell me this is that story

Where everyone is happy at the end,

And there is nothing after the end

Except sunshine and rainbows.

But I guess those stories are reserved for fiction.

Life is suffering until the end,

And there is nothing after the end.

God isn’t real,

And you’re no hero.

So, you put in your last two quarters

And walked away

Without even attempting

Because you realized

She never wanted you to begin with.

She only ever wanted your money.

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