It’s been a good turn
Rolling dice
Though the pain plays out
With each gamble
After losing face
Winning sickness
When the rest still live
While I rot

Since my trade-off
Paying fate’s debt
By what sins have killed
Through example
Are unfortunate words
Still unnoticed
Like those cards so weak
They must fold

Until sadness
Offers one break
At repentance blind
Making wagers
Still sulking alone
Behind tables
Taking risks too dumb
For one man

That expresses
Another bad hand
In pursuing dreams
Never triumphed
Unless God Himself
Defies limits
Yielding hope now pushed
Beyond chance

Counting empty draws
As full suites
Or ignoring rules
Switching numbers
Against mounting odds
Ruining moments
You could never enjoy
Betting fear

But can somehow choose
Writing lines
Where suffering breeds
Fascination
Beneath morbid stakes
Poets offer
Indulging whims
Always raw.

• J. Pigno