I cast a furtive glance around the table
And draw my hand closer to my chest.
My poker face needs work;
I’ve never been good at hiding anything.
To live transparently, cards face up
In vulnerability and freedom,
Requires more chips than I’ve got to give.
My grip shakes with the urge to fold.
Was never my strong suit.
I play the game on instinct,
Sometimes betting all on a shit hand.
Forced to play the cards we’re dealt,
A stray club can muck up a row of hearts,
And a Jack is a poor substitute
When all you need is a King.
Up the ante; make the final call.
Am I bluffing? Are you sure?
“Read ’em, and weep!” indeed.
I’m cashing out.