The reflection from his eyes
I can see darkness.
He walks up and down the alley at night
Looking for a gambler like him.
From the distance he sees a tall man with a long black jacket coming his way.
The fog of the night is blocking his view.
He gets a little closer and shouts out, who’s there?
The man responds I’m gambler looking for a good game.
While they sit at the table and drop the first flop, he makes his first bid.
He wins his first hand.
With a smile on his face he says, “I will play again.” He bids one hundred dollars
Loses all again.
The night gets deadly quiet, his expression starts to change; he looks at me and says, “Honey one more game.”
I look up to him and shake my head. And I say, “why are we wasting time here when there’s no more money to play?”
He replies, “Because every hand is a winner and every hand is a loser.
I can only hope for a good hand.”
Only a fool and thief can say those words.
I pray for his soul, and walk away
He has no cares and worries while he plays his game. He spends his days and nights here thinking everything will be alright.
I just hope he doesn’t gamble the rent money again.
He will end up sleeping in the dark alley
(NOte: Photo is by LaTur on flickr.com)