He played a blinder,
left her standing in the pouring rain,
He played it straight,
straight out of a well thumbed book,
He played the fool,
fool always rhymed with cool,
He played into her arms,
arms now cold from the chill of night,
He played it red,
red for the colour of her bed,
He played like he cared,
cared for the notes crumpled in his pocket,
He played his cards,
cards that made her tear her soul,
He plays a song
a song for her departure from this world.