House Of Cards Poem by Robin Bennett

Veiled behind the jack of spades,
macabre collection of hearts, your trade.
Shrouded behind a deck of guile,
deceit your ace in the hole, all the while.

Little white lies, morphed to black,
you have met your match, dear jack.
Covered in a hopeless sheen,
what, no match for this suicide queen?

Going all in, believing my hand to win,
tables turned, you stand drenched in sin.
Never bet with what you lack,
you've heard the rumors of pay back.

Step back you've lost at your own game,
burden must be heavy with so much blame.
Try taking a roll of the dice,
another desperate gamble; was it worth the price?