The Game

The table in the poker room

was smokey, silent, full of gloom.

One seat open, I sat down,

and quickly ordered Coke and Crown.

A few hands in I hit a boat

and all my rivals I then smote.

A single rival called my hand

to see the cards that I would land.

He told me I was very good,

his kindness, though, I misunderstood.

He had a plan I did not know.

On that count I was very slow.

A few hands more, I had to try

to bluff into a winning prize.

Played just like my winning hand

no other rival made a stand.

I pulled the pot with youthful glee.

I was on a winning spree.

A few hands further, feeling fine,

I tried again yet one more time.

My single rival called once more

and I was turned from rich to poor.

I left the room and saw him grin

as I could only hang my chin.