Gamble (an acrostic poem)

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Giving a toss of the dice, he closed his eyes

And projected the vision he needed as he heard them hit the table

Maybe if he truly believe, his luck would decide to work

But belief and seven bucks would buy him a venti latte at Starbucks

Looking at the pips he shook his head dejectedly. He’d have to go to work tomorrow

Except it wasn’t time to leave yet. He pulled out the last of his bankroll

Broken (an acrostic poem)

Belief was sometimes such a fragile thing

Relying on just your faith that everything will be okay

Outside forces were always tearing at that virtual support

Keeping it under assault, looking for the smallest of cracks

Enlarging them until the whole thing falls into pieces

Nothing could ever put you back together completely and make you whole again

 

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