Odds
By JamesF
Wed, 11 Apr 2018
- 219 reads
Odds
The chances are the game’s safe,
but who knows, laced with prophetic
weight, I gave you grief for my
indiscretion, laid it all at your door.
Yet, it’s not your fault, or anyone else’s,
the world a seething mass of contradictions,
a collection of locations all dancing to
different rhythms, you and I the same.
You may as well say I’m your past,
what’s back there is not easily
erased, my jack-knifed brain retains
the pain, we gambled with emotions
and folded.
- Log in to post comments