Betting Shops Poem by Maureen Pickford

A fleeting moment
of excitement,
anticipation
as hard-earned money
enters in
and then leaves;
a boy skint
or a lad broke.
all his dreams
become shrivelled
and choked.

His ambitions end
up thwarted
watered down
with loss of earnings.
No good yearning
to win it all back
and get ahead
of the game.
They're one step in front
and relinquish
all blame.

The hint of promised
riches lures
him in again.
Yet... just one
more bet;
as his weakening will
is destroyed by the thrill
of the steeplechase.
The horses hooves pounding
it into the ground
never to resurface.