The cards we are dealt
Determine the hands
We construct. They determine
Our chances of survival,
Of success, of admittance
To the winner's circle.
My choices are limited.
Always limited. I pair
The spades with
The diamonds and
My singular heart
Hopes
For the best.
My fingers grasp
The remaining chips I have
Been allotted. My hands,
They tremble
As I choose my
Next move. But I
Am trapped, trapped
Within the confines of
My cards; trapped
By the spades that
Dig my grave; trapped
By broken hearts; trapped
By shattered glass and
Sparkling diamonds. Diamonds
That I cannot keep - they
Shine on a world I
Cannot have. My hand
Is already made.
The cards are already
Played.
No comments:
Post a Comment