Ball Hands Poem by Earnest Gatuma

What happens when nature is deliberate?
When probability is linear,
Like a roulette wheel that wins you every bet,
Even when shuffled my odds become regular,
Discreet variables resulting to fate,
Chances feel slimy in my grip till am on the third quarter,
Flawlessly then am in the subzero ring,
So cool that the end is geo dazzling,
Hence I could blaze my nemesis to get a strategic balance,
A warm relationship is what I'd love,
Swerving from right to left is a collateral damage to your mans,
Cause all I do is automatic valves.