367 – Twist

Poem number 367
.
Twist
.
The cash I earned by working hard
I threw away on slots and cards
And as it dwindled down the drain
I wondered when I’d win again
But now I have no money left
It’s strange, I do not feel bereft
The money that’s gone out the door
Is just a way of keeping score
And though I’m eating beans tonight
I have no guilt, I feel alright
And when, next month, my bank’s replete
I’ll risk, once more, a big defeat
For thrills, excitement, beating heart
It’s not quite bliss, but it’s a start.

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