RosalineJacques Rousseau


Russian Roulette - Poem by RosalineJacques Rousseau

I'm playing a game.
It's not very fun.

It's a game of chance.
A Russian Roulette.
A game to bet.

There is only two left.
The only alive.
The other two,
They died.

It's just me and him.
One gun.
One bullet.
And one survivor.

I hope it's me,
Though I don't want him to die.

He slides the gun across the table.
It's my turn.
I'm so terrified.

I pick it up,
Hold it tight.
Spin it.
I here the pop.

I open my eyes,
Surprised to be alive.

I look around,
I see the man,
He's on the ground.

I've won this game,
I've won this round.

The game of chance,
The game,
Russian Roulette...


Comments about Russian Roulette by RosalineJacques Rousseau

  • (12/4/2009 10:47:00 PM)


    Great poem, unusual subjects are always far more interesting for me to read and this is about as unique as I can imagine. Not to be too nit picky but I think there should be two guns, otherwise when she opens her eyes after pulling the trigger she'd have to hand him the gun for his turn before he had a chance to blow his head off. Beyond that it was an enjoyable read. I'm curious what other unusual ideas made their way into your poetry. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, December 4, 2009



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