The Gambler's Hand
The whole world waited with baited breath
As the slightest tilt of the die revealed a different number
And no one could predict that outcome
But the hand that rolled the dice.
I cried why, and my eyes opened
To see this precarious world lay out as
Our lives, a continuous gamble
And the hand that rolls the dice.
So gently and so violently it tosses misleading paths
Sometimes in our faces to throw us off course
And we trudge on without a choice but to leave life
To the hand that rolls the dice.
Many years later when memory is myth
When yesterday's rock has become sand beneath the sea
We poor little people will look helplessly up
Game pieces to the hand rolling the dice.