a/n: Just a new poem. . .It accompanies some drawings I drew.


Cards of Fortune, deal the Fate

Poverty; riches; love and hate.

Of broken hearts and royal spades

Alluring diamonds; clubs parade.

Which of the twisting roads you'll take?

None can choose. . .the Dealer makes.

A wolf in sheep wool he may be. . .

Not even sure of who is 'me'.

Falsehoods and masks disguise one's self

Creeping shadows walk with stealth.

An outer impression of what they see;

She masks them all; a façade is she.

When life and death are on the line,

She juggles them; no thought of time.

The difference between them is blurred

None of the outcomes are assured.

But between them is love; apart. . .

She's also juggler of the heart.

All three of them make up the tale

Of fame and glory; hearts for sale.

But the story that's not often told. . .

Is simple emotions without the gold.

The Dealer, Juggler, and Façade. . .

They choose the story. . .They have it made.


a/n: Yup.  Those are my three muses.  The Dealer, the Juggler, and the Façade.  Lovely, no? ^^ Lol!!

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