What
cards have you dealt me,
And
am I ace or a sad joker,
Your
hand I cannot duly see
As
I am a pitiful smoker.
I'm
not in a close pack to attack
Your
stack of chips on your shoulder,
And
be I flushing red – or am I black,
I
will not hold back being a soldier.
I'm
a jack-the-lad of harmony
And
have a respectful patience,
Building
bridges along the way
To
further my loving essence.
I
would buy you diamonds if I could,
But
I do not have the wealth of a king,
I
can afford to buy you what's good
In
a fashionable sense without bling.
© Andrew Stevenson 02/07/2017
© Andrew Stevenson 02/07/2017
A re-edited piece. This poem has a theme of playing cards within it.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew.