The price to play is steep indeed,
but reward to be had is more desirable.
Greed is the drug that feeds all inhibitions;
a gambler's reward is the only route to his plunder.
Though constant failure looms, pursuit insist
for one more try, a mighty blow to turn an endless tide.
One to forgive all previous misgivings.
Bit by bit the future hangs in the balance.
The dream lies high for that one thing, an endless prize.
Though it may never arrive, in the end,
wishful thinking is the gambler's only true delight.
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Comments about this poem (Gambler's Delight by Godfrey Morris )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Algernon Charles Swinburne
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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