Chances

[George.Wright]

rumble and tumble, the terrible clatter of the genetic rolls of the die in fate
one man's meat is anothers poison, encrunched into a terrible face of hate
at the twisted form, of the baby born
with limbs that did appear to mutate
and the silver spoon and the handsome groom
and the beautiful dancer, that twisted faster and happened to just gyrate
the ace of spades and your vision of hades and the chances to love or just relate
are dependant on the next twist of card
and the beautiful sonnets of the avon bard
will the scales of justice tip slightly or very hard?
the devil inside or the great divide?
where chances are not chance and God decides
on this terrible ride of life on this rollercoaster ride
of ups and downs
of smiles and frowns
of dust and crowns
of psychos and clowns
the dice rolls down and down and downs
georges

[Ben Kelly]

Dear George

Definitely, gothic phsyco poetry with a abstract cosmic meter

Ben

[George.Wright]

Ben,
what meter is that? is it over three foot?
Georges