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
Putting her money where her mouth is was always difficult
It seemed easier to not think and go with her heart in those circumstances
Casting the dice down the green felted table, she closed her eyes
Knowing that whatever happened, her life was going to be changed forever
Bringing all she had to the table
Anne felt like it just wasn’t enough
Doomed to fail, and fail horribly
Didn’t miss the mark by much
And everything went catastrophically wrong
Yet she realized tomorrow was another chance to do something great
He looked at the clutter around him. Neglected, half-finished dreams littered the desk, table, and sections of the floor. At one point each project had held so much life and promise, but now they were on life support, or worse yet zombified corpses. He wondered what was the best approach going forward. Maybe he should just put everything away and pull out pieces when he was ready to resurrect them, but that would mean confronting his failures, and he wasn’t emotionally prepared to do that just yet. Besides, he had a brand new idea, and he knew it would work.
Can’t get a seat at the table?
Relegated to looking on, waiting for something to hit the floor?
Under foot and unnoticed?
Maybe this year is when you stand up and demand a seat.
Become a partner with those who should be your peers.
So stop settling for mere…
Down to my last chance, I offer a prayer to the lukewarm plastic cubes
I then release them to bound across the table, watching them unleash their chaos
Cartwheeling and spinning among all the possibilities and futures
Eventually coming to rest as tombstones on my luck’s grave
Image: i.ytimg.com/vi/hr8iI576BY8/hqdefault.jpg
Earth, air, fire, water
Life was simpler in the past
Everything was created with those four basic substances
Making up everyone’s reality
Except people knew there was something more
Now we have a periodic table filled with of over one hundred building blocks
That is how life goes, Mr. Watson. Starts off simple then becomes complex.
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But he didn’t have the money to pay
It made him feel really bad, but he had been so hungry
Leaving the slip on the table with an “I’m sorry” note
Larry couldn’t really enjoy his first meal in three days as he ran away
Image: laistassets.scprdev.org/i/35a5dc7572c359515f3ba86513ee4655/5d60892d61a8c00008998ec4-eight.jpg
Reaching for the dice one more time
Isaac gave them a toss onto the table
So much rested on the outcome of this one throw
Knowing that the answer would hurt either way
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Count me as one of the choir nerds
Looking on with envy at the cool kids over there
It kind of wants to make me gag
Questioning why it couldn’t be me
Until some orchestra kid tries to sit at our table
Even us choir nerds have standards
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Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
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Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
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Never Short On Words 