Picture me –
Amid this turn-taking
Game of random leaders:
Faithless ivory-faced kings,
Holy-roller board extremists,
Sword-wielders in minute-man keeps –
Balancing , desperately on the edge
Of a dangerously spinning wheel,
Waiting for somebody, anybody –
Even the one-eyed queen of reds –
To draw the sanity-humanity card.
But once again, and everywhere I look,
There are only jokers, brokers,
Trapped, frustrated pawns and
Grim-black suits that hunt in packs.
Luck may wear six faces:
But none of them is mine.
