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Poem

Nickels or pennies, dollars or pounds, 
Feed those machines, can you hear your heart pound?
Spinning and winning drawing you in, 
Feeding a frenzy before you begin. 
One dollar here, a few hundred pounds 
 Soon you are dragged in, about to go down.

It’s an addiction feeding those sluts, 
no use complaining or spilling your guts.
It's exhilarating hearing the sound, of yet one more silly bonus round. 
Yet still, we sit on that comfy chair, often we utter an earnest silent prayer. 
God does not listen to those wishing prayers for a game to land often and pay us again. 
 Spinning we do each and every day, no matter the promise 
We can’t stay away. 

The reels are illusions, to make us forget, it is our hard earned money we sit here and bet.  

We are all losers, sitting on chairs, feeding a frenzy, a re-trigger to get 
What is it really, why do we bet? 
A bonus round comes, excited we sit, to collect a few pennies after hundreds were spent

Slots are ruthless a sure way to lose, some are addicted, to heroin and booze. 

Off to the tables for a bit of fun, that is like holding a loaded gun, 
Spin the roulette, and hope for your number, 
See your bank balance soon go under. 
Go to Black Jack think to count, 
they are not stupid, they have covered the shoe, 
No chance of winning whatever you do. 

But it does not matter we say to ourselves… when in denial you cannot quit, you often hear people begging for a few quid. 
I like to gamble, really I do,  control is not easy when an addiction is true.

Do not let gambling take over your life, you may end up losing yourself and your wife. 
It is not funny, nor is it unreal, that powerful addiction we have for the reel. 
Some weekends I lose thousands a night, that does not scare me nor give me a fright. That is the addict's plight.

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