Blind

Pony up the ante boys,

This filly

don't

come cheap.

 

Your golden tongue

is useless,

On the dusty path

you're treading.

 

The grit

obscures

your vision

Shuffling along,

 a path of indecision.

 

 

You can't see

 the devastation

in front of you.

 

You're too busy

Focused,  

on the sparkling

motes,  

dancing around you.

 

Careful man

Or you might lose it all.

 

When the dust settles

and the bags are packed,

The only thing

You find you want

Will not be  

The one left

Standing.