The game’s been going on since I was born;
I still recall when it was new and strange.
The chips are ancient now; my chair is worn.
Each hand is different but the stakes don’t change.
Sometimes I get ahead; sometimes behind.
Sometimes I get so lucky, it’s unreal.
And when my hand sucks, I try not to mind.
I raise, I call; I win, I lose; I deal.
To think I’ll beat the house is lunacy.
I know deep down: this ain’t a game you win.
And so I play to lose with dignity
And wait for a good hand to go all in
And discard all but what I need to hold
And play the cards I’m dealt until I fold.
Copyright 2015 Matthew J Wells