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Rated: E · Poetry · Finance · #2313676
A poem about the gambler.
Beneath gaslight's dim embrace, shadows dance on a gambler's face,
Eyes glint gold amidst the haze, whispers tales of fortune's maze.

Cards like fate held close and tight, secrets hidden in the dying light.
A tense breath sighs, a finger flicks, the wheel of chance it clicks and clicks.

You never count your money, not till dawn's pale finger beckons on,
For victory's song is quickly sung, when greed outweighs the risk begun.

Laughter ripples, coins cascade, fortune's smile, a fleeting shade.
I see you're out of aces, friend, remember well this game's no end.

Know when to hold them, tight and dear, when hope flickers, banish fear.
Know when to run, with folded hand, from battles lost, on shifting sand.

For luck's a fickle mistress, coy, she grants her favor, then enjoys,
To twist the knife, to steal the prize, and leave you staring at the skies.

So tread the path with cautious soul, where fortune spins her roulette's toll.
The gambler's dance, a risky play, between the dawn and dying day.




LINE COUNT: 14 Lines
WRITTEN FOR: "*Books1*Winner and New Prompt, due Feb 8-2024"  Open in new Window.
PROMPT:
Use as title for your poem or story: The Gambler
and in your story or poem somewhere: bold for tomorrow's judge:

you never count your money
I can see you're out of aces
you need to know when to hold them
know when to run
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