Death and the Vending Machine

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I met death by a vending machine
Rifling pockets for a quarter
Fresh from an ashen hospital wing
Meeting the sons and the daughters

Dishevelled and weary, death turned to me
And asked could I spare any change
And I froze with a fear and wondered how far
I could reach without being in range

Oh, Death be not strange

I met death by a vending machine
With a fine silver blade it was trying
To cut every coin from that echoing belly
And lift all the food without buying

Then death turned to me with a glint in its smile
And a gleam in its shiny gold chain
And it said if you help me, I'll spare you from crying
Over your own children's graves

Me and old Death by a vending machine
The pair of us locked eye to eye
Oh, Death, the tie that binds

I met death by a vending machine
And a sign that said Out of Order
And death, body doubled, with boots caked in dust
Asked could I spare any water

And I froze, half confused, half afraid, half delighted
Could it be that death was dying?
All it took from me now was to keep for myself
All the water I carried inside

Oh, death be not mine

~ Brendan Bonsack

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