House of Cards

Thankfully, this is an old poem. I’m curious to see his new poems now that he’s a dad. 🙂

Cynical Wordsmith

If life is a game
And I, a player,
Wouldn’t I know the rules?
Wouldn’t the goal be defined?
This isn’t fun anymore.
This doesn’t feel fun anymore.
The chance and folly,
The stacked deck and two faced coins,
They’re laughing,
At the house of cards I’ve built.
The wind rests
Every day and night,
But your breath is heavy
And acrid.

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