RosalineJacques Rousseau

RosalineJacques Rousseau Poems

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Russian Roulette

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...

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