Where You Place Your Bets
Like inadequacies, you run amok
in this foolish game of chance.
Running idle without direction,
you sit in my driveway waiting for a form of tomorrow.
Let me take you for a spin this time;
Let me drag you through this mud and silt.
I have a collection of broken dreams,
and missing pieces of the soul.
I will let you pick through them,
I will let you enjoy yourself.
What may be honorable to you
may seem unfit for consumption to another.
Watch where you place your bets;
Lest they lay their stakes against you in return.
Copyright © Greta Veranes-Kitts | Year Posted 2011
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