Playing the game



Everything she told me, has a price.
But.
What of all the good Samaritans just passing by?
Must all good deeds be punished.
Choices chastised
Egos bruised and pushed aside
A soul flying high gets its wings clipped by
the pruning shears of applied prejudice
of the past when flying too close to the sun
simply because they relished the heat.
Impartial beautiful Moon pulls the tides
waning and waxing all the
events in your life
Perhaps the Moon has a callous cold side
that it always hide?
A Jekyll and Hyde
I’m always waiting for that shoe to drop
when the game of love
comes to call and
places the dice carefully upon the table
Asking me if I’ll have
a roll.

By Philip Wardlow 2018

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