Black Joker

Rules seem fluid; life hangs on the balance of the thing you're fated to forever lack.

History says goodbye.

I don't have a diagram for this;
it just was. Like it always is.
Most days a card gets pulled and you do what you're told;
if you're lucky you're fulfilled. You're still tired and old.

It's fair to share that your prayers don't care
as long's you're aware they started somewhere.
How was it decided on looking toward the sky?
Life's misdirections don't lie. We belong inside.

Right now,
I hold all the cards
         but one.

We're concerned that we're all on the jury
and the public opinion's court is in a hurry
to commit to a conviction that I just can't get...
I insist           our verdicts don't matter one bit.

History says hello.


17 lines
Posted in "Shadows and Light Poetry Contest" 
"100"