The Gambler

frigile mind handle with care yet your words stay kind and your will and game are fare its a liquid breath you speek with and fire thoughts you think with its a gamblers game you play and you play it night and day ovecrast the chips ae down sky moves to gray holding a promised dream held in your hand reeping for a smart scheem to get you out as planed all but a fat lady who sings is left to stand all is not lost yet thinks you as you search your sleave for a card or even a quid or two pulling from it a joker toss it to the table thinking this aint poker its something of a fable pick up your depts brush your coat down take all but regrets and stone eched frown so the fat lady who sings just standing their with her a song she brings and a knowing stare thinking of the morn and all tis to come her eyes and face torn just like the page sung from