In This Big City That Never Sleeps, Money Goes And Every One Weeps. Poem by Michael Gale

In the city that never sleeps...
Gambling can rob money from losers who continuelly weeps.
In the city with crime so high...
It's too big as filled with many a lie.
When they lose their back shed shirts...
Knowing more how bad it hurts.
Hookers and pimp sheets fill the streets...
Wanting their john's money spent t'ween their sheets.
Desert arid with mountain sides...
Many men walk away naked inside a barrel.
These barreled men have not anything to show that cleanly hides...
Show girls and big hotel casino's on the Las Vegas strip.
Makes more travel to here a more tempting one trip...
Slot machines roll their bells and lemons and sevens.
Carrot Topp displays his jovial get ups and jokes...
He'll probably remain far away from Angel's high up in the Heavens.
Poker is now the big craze on line...
That's all right for others, without it i'm totally fine.
Powerball lottery numbers do i usually bi-weekly buy...
I'll probably not win before i die.
It's kinda poor that i'll head to my grave...
Buying up a lotta tickets is today's newest rave.

(The lottery was not passed in Oklahoma until most recently
probably a year ago) .