Seth Cross Poet Narrative

Taken: Part 2

The cards are dealt and the game begins
He can’t feel the cards as most of his nerves are dead, but he sees himself holding them
Seems impossible; he’s already holding two aces
Calls for three cards to replace the others
Astounded, he stares at his current hand
This additional ace makes three
One more go-around awards him with the last and final ace
He knows he’s won, but refuses to believe it’s real
Lays down the cards, the game is called in his favor
The strangely dressed man approaches him with the prizes
In his left hand he bares a .357 Magnum with one bullet to spare
In his right, a check for two million dollars
He briefly basks in the opportunity to finally have relief
To finally afford and buy the freedom he’s so long dreamt of

Seems ironic; the final betrayal, this last, final thought
Is of nothing and no one, but the one he lost

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment