Bottom Dollar Disgrace
"Bottom Dollar Disgrace"
With a gunshot style wink, he made a prayer from one father to another.
As a vagabond lied his way to pseudo rabbit foot's freedom,
This man could not deny the tables their monetary dues.
He could look in the hotel mirror no longer and see anyone, but
A man responsible for a mortgage, A sinner who loved nearly every one
And any certainty beyond that was his in own marriage, death and taxes.
He knew his past would catch up with him, the house would have victory
Desperately seeking out his Lord on felt covered tables of shame
A man who once was pious and preached to the choir, for hours on end
Found naughty chemical arousal and desperate needs for new pairs of shoes.
But under the sweet roll of chance, never say di.
After he lost his bottom dollar, having nothing left,
The priest went home to his clergy and deeply apologized
Everyone was feeling angry, everyone was feeling cross,
They especially forgave him as he resumed his position inside the circle and out,
The man admitted he thought this was a one time gift. He said
"Praise be, the Son will come out."
And such was the nature of one anonymous gambler.
Copyright © karl marszalowicz | Year Posted 2016