A hundred marbles in dish,
A chance of fate to question with.
Fifty red and fifty white,
Fifty for my death and fifty for my life.
I close my eyes and extend my hand to reach,
My fingers brush the glass of each.
Afraid to look at either outcome,
If I see white, I breath for them.
If I see red, they agree with me, this is the end.
With sweat forming at my brow,
Three. Two. One. I open them now
It's red like crimson, red like birth.
Read like the paper that spoke my worth.
The rope behind was tied,
My fate was made as was mind.
It's time.
Thirty seconds I hung,
Thirty's seconds the rope did snap.
Questioning why they put me back
I guess lotteries play games like that.