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Random poem inspired by a certain poker game out camping in Shelton, WA. |
| She annies up, He trades for two She doesn't know He hasn't a clue But straight-faced vigor Was his disguise She couldn't see through Private eyes He looks around, Feels sick inside For fifty bucks He lays beside What does she have? He wonders while She sits there Laden with a smile And finally She closes in: "You give up?" Comes with a grin Two two's, a three, A jack, one seven A gulp within Says he can't win And confirmation Came when she Laid down her pair Of double three-- (How pathetic! What a fool was he). She carries triumph In her arms And saying, still, With all her charms, "You tried, but fate Was there for me." Thus concludes Poker poetry. |