A poem about choices.

Sometimes we're dealt a bad hand and there's nothing we can do about it

We just have to smile and grin and take it

I tried to trick the dealer once,

A hidden ace up my sleeve

But I ended up being the joker

And I weep and feel sorry for myself

Why me? When I'm the one who's to blame

I don't want to make fun or name names

But it was always you I would blame

No shame

Just an excuse to ease my rotten conscience

Sometimes your hand is ok and you make the best out of it, or the worst

Or pocket aces slide into your possession and you win it all, but it all can just be snatched away in the next round

Are you ready to play?

Because I'm already dealing