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We Gamble on the Lot
He slides me a card
across the table,
and it glides like it's on ice.
the two that came before
have left me feeling cold,
so maybe there is ice under this cloth,
or maybe my body's getting ready to lose.
the old man next to me said,
"you gotta know when to hold 'em, son,
and know when to fold 'em."
but he's got holes in his shirt
and I knew he'd held bad cards
too long.
cards resemble life:
you get slid some shit,
bet the farm —
thinking you could make it work —
and end up
losing your shirt.
I should of listened,
but gamblers never do.
© Ernist Lost-his-way
across the table,
and it glides like it's on ice.
the two that came before
have left me feeling cold,
so maybe there is ice under this cloth,
or maybe my body's getting ready to lose.
the old man next to me said,
"you gotta know when to hold 'em, son,
and know when to fold 'em."
but he's got holes in his shirt
and I knew he'd held bad cards
too long.
cards resemble life:
you get slid some shit,
bet the farm —
thinking you could make it work —
and end up
losing your shirt.
I should of listened,
but gamblers never do.
© Ernist Lost-his-way
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