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by
Eliot
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Q
Poems
May 2013
A Bad Hand
I've never been good at poker
But me and Life played a game
I pulled a horrid, useless hand
And lost every penny to my name
The consequences were harsh
Life gave me them with a smile
With very little to work with
To overcome the trials
Life gave me keloid scars
Life gave me misophonia
Life gave me depression
Life gave me paranoia
And panic attacks
And a fear of love
(And a huge nose
As if I hadn't had enough)
And I'm meant to accept my "spoils"
From a horrid poker game
And spend years of my life
Pretending I'm okay
I'm supposed to laugh
And have a smile on my face
But what emotion should I show
When the audience walks away?
I'm supposed to do this
Without being too fake
But how can one be genuine
While wearing the facades they make?
So when others ask why I'm suicidal
When they ask why I find everything bland
When they try to fix my apathy
I just tell them "I drew a bad hand"
Written by
Q
North Carolina
(North Carolina)
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