tight money

Tight money, midnight glow,
jet black hustle, feel the flow.
Cool breeze in a house of cash,
chips in hand, ready to clash.

Rolling the dice, fate be good to me,
a fool’s game? I can’t help but laugh.
Swing house boogie band pumping loud,
the losing blues song got the crowd.

Seven here, eleven there,
heaven found in the high-stakes air.
Rent waits at the door, but I smile
one more roll, I'll stay awhile.

At this moment, I’m alive,
tight money magic, I  thrive.
Let the world spin, like a roulette table in the wind.
tonight, the odds are all on me.
I'm a gamblin' junkie when will I be free?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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