Sunday, 31 January 2010

2 Dollars of 3

Those two dollars of three seemed at large,
They seemed, so lonely at the barge,
On those tables they cried in pain,
Being thrown in riotous glee,
Those cards were no friend they hated,
And gloat being made kings over me,
I sulked and I screamed without avail,
IF only a hand could free me,
In sadness I sat and bounced with dismay,
Only to be stuffed with the rest.

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