Poem #7 - Pepsi - Separated by Glass

A lone bottle of Pepsi remained inside the vending machine,
A man stood staring at it,
Very keen.
He was dying of thirst,
But had to insert $1.30 first,
In order to take care of the dehydration,
In order to not feel lost of imagination.

He checked the pocket of his jacket,
Not a penny, not a nickel, not a dime,
Oh what a racket.
He cursed under his breath,
But then thought,
Why should I feel this regret?

He reached for a chair,
And lifted it up in the air.
He banged the chair against the glass,
Which shattered into a thousand pieces,
Not exactly done by someone with class.

The man stuck his hand into the opening,
As the alarm made a loud ring.
He smiled when with the bottle he made contact.
His thirst would finally be quenched,
That was a fact.

The End