The Table

At the table we are all dealt different cards.
It is how we play them that matters.
The rules may be the same,
But whoever plays by the rules,
Loses by the rules.

The bartender serves strong drinks,
In hopes that you will sink
More money into the game, and his pocket.
He is a twisted man, yet a family man.
The more you spiral, the more his kid eats.

The person across from you, feels no guilt.
They will take your money, and your quilt.
If they give their sleeve a slight tilt,
An ace will slide from a pocket they built.
In the other, you notice the shine of a hilt.

You should not be at the table.
Yet through some profound scheme,
You are.

3 thoughts on “The Table

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