The gameA Poem by Jolan HAnother poem
We met, and played in a chance meeting
The next we met my wallet took a beating Your smug smile and money pile made me a loser sore If I lose this hand, it may cost my wedding band, and I shown the door With trembling hand I pick them and see what I get. Your smug smile will be gone in a way you won't soon forget I play meek and put all my money in You place all of yours in as well now let the fun begin Your house is full and remind me of your skill But I hold each shiny ace, and your hand can't pay the bill You in frustration point to the door I leave with head held high to gamble nevermore © 2019 Jolan HAuthor's Note
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