Treasure Island

Lynne FincherSpringarden


Strip Poker


Forced hand in the game of life.
Now all cards are on the table.

The table collapses
under the tremendous weight.

Only the risk takers
will dare to show their cards.

The consequences of which
can never be reversed.

Not everyone has a winning hand.
Most are not even playing with a full deck.

The crowds cheer them on.
The stakes grow higher and higher.

So many losers.
So few winners.

How long will the game continue?
An endless bluff in the game of life.

But then the forced hand.

And everyone folds into
the misery of the inevitable.

Stripped of life and humanity.
Game Over

Submitted: Sunday, June 16, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, July 30, 2013

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Comments about this poem (Strip Poker by Lynne FincherSpringarden )

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  • Danny Draper (6/17/2013 7:01:00 AM)

    The house always wins and fate perhaps is a house with time on its side where the inevitable is the fallen that have lost and line its dark dry vaults. (Report) Reply

  • Owain Glyn (6/16/2013 2:44:00 PM)

    Life is a gamble, but the winners are the ones who, at least, play by the rules. The card sharps who think they can beat the odds, inevitably lose their shirts, and often, considerably more. (Report) Reply

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