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!!