If Life Was Like a Poem

Gamble

sand slipping between the cracks
through the fingers and down the backs
belonging to men whose days are labored
reds and blacks on a chess game play board
dwindling out like unraveling twine
spun by the spindler, so careful and fine
limited resources, limited moments
blood with guts, never ending torments
extermination to life, suffocation to breath
crip to the cripple and ultimate death
dripping, dropping downward it spins
the heavily weighted sacrifice of sins
a hostage bent in to its will
a knocking-out sleeping pill
glass so smooth, slender, slick
spatting up blood, vomiting sick
let the last grain fall
from the crumbling wall
as the dust starts to rise
comes a sign to realise
these seconds come to price
so go on and bet, roll the dice