After staying out all night playing poker I came up with this. Most may not understand unless you have played some poker!


Yeah, it creeps into me like a feeling of unconcern

The power of control burning into my wits of unease feelings

But I love it and all the fruits of hidden emotions.

It is a love hate every time I play,

with the outcome of uncertainty.

The reach into my pocket for more ammunition,

knowing it would be better to leave,

But I can’t , the ugly bad beat lights a fuse,

and I reenter into the light to get even,

I could leave this zone for the morrows to come,

but I choose to end it today, like there is no tomorrow.

I accept the torture and the ugly pit gut feelings,

the flashes in my mind of a great outcome.

Not always loss as many times I come out the winner.

But the loss of time is never recaptured .

Yeah, poker is a monster, a game fit for kings,

who once were, but never has been.

Tonight I dream of the monster.

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