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

Glitter (an acrostic poem)

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Giving those diabolical miniature flakes of metal in their prison

Little shakes with an evil grin on my face

If you hadn’t had crossed the line it wouldn’t have come to this

The trap set, I just sit back with the airhorn and count down

Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.  The horn screams through the night

Resulting in you throwing off your covers, releasing the pile of sparkle into your entire everything.