Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2264514-Pocket-Aces
Rated: E · Poetry · Young Adult · #2264514
Thanks to my grandfather, who taught me Texas Hold'em and when to accept a loss as a win

Pocket Aces


Leah Stone

This game is getting old,

and the table before us

only grows distance

between you and me.

I'm a seer;

You, an easy lie to discern.

All bets are off;

I'm not revoking with doubt,

this is a session easily won.

I simply withdraw, too distracted amidst the intention

of using my cards for someone

who delivers equal combat.

Your bluff won't be called,

even if your fragile play receives accolades,

my will to boast is vacant;

Though, your 2 and 7 off suit are butter knives

to my blades, you may still look at me

as if I have no power.

Without question,

your blood runs cold

and your gluttony overrides sense of purpose;

The game isn't always about a win,

however, I've spent far too long

teaching that lesson to men.

My hand I fold.

© Copyright 2022 Leah Stone (lovebugleah at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2264514-Pocket-Aces