TWO CENTS

As I entered, I heard the door behind me close

Some metaphor for never turning back, I suppose

 

No music played, songs are for atmosphere

I knew nothing, nothing was clear

 

Fear, perhaps, the triumphant emotion

Adrenaline rushing, instinct to run

 

Two cents in my hand

I've never had to sense where I am

 

Where am I now? All I can think is "damn"

Should've had that cake before I left