The Gamblers Dream Poem by Angela Collins

The man awoke quite suddenly,
And crept out of sight.
To the beloved casino he was going,
For another wasteful night.

He had raided his children’s piggybanks,
That held all their hard-earned cash.
Smuggling them into his jacket,
He swept off in a dash.

He entered the bright casino
And quickly found his mates.
Each of them, not unlike himself
Boasted several dark traits.

Taking a seat at a round table,
He joined a game of poker
Though quickly moved to “500”,
The game to draw a joker.

But all went down from there
For this woeful man.
Hundreds upon hundreds lost
In the cracks of his flawed plan.

He moved along to blackjack
Where he thrice went bust.
It was there he filled with rage
And tore up the cards in disgust.

His one last chance was roulette,
On the mighty number twenty-three.
It just so happened that number came good,
And left him cackling with wicked glee…

For once he’d made some money
Good luck to others it would seem,
But the punter could not care less
For it was a gambler’s dream.