Monday, July 21, 2014


For some time now I have condemned the hand dealt to me
Trying hard to bust the dealer
But it had seemed that fate aimed to spite me
Until I acted rather unbecomingly off character.

It turned into a moment I would rue
All the other players revealed no clue
Cards all faced down what was I to do
Did not know which choice would be true.

Turns out what was needed is a change of perception
Or you could call it a willing submission
Faced the next round with no expectation
Releasing all the restless energy and frustration.

Would I take a hit? Or would it be a soft?
One move could make feelings aloft
Whatever I get I accept, I chose to relent
Even without acquiring the blackjack I am content.

What a way to revive this old thing. As always, poem sounds somewhat nonsensical yet may be a reflection of ...who knows.