Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

The lies that kill

Poetry By: EdwardSecurion
Memoir


Tags: Gambling, Risk


If you try and make the quick buck through gambling sooner or later it will end in pain, serious pain.


Submitted:May 8, 2012    Reads: 19    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


The invisible man creeps into their minds with tales of glory and fortune, at the consequences of many's misfortune. He looks sharp, smooth and in the grove. He's the scrambler, the rambler, the back biter with razor teeth. Come play, roll the dice with me for if it's money you need I can give you riches, just gamble with me. Unlucky, try again. Unlucky, take out a loan. Unlucky, sell your phone. Unlucky, ask for an advance from work. Unlucky, you can't afford the rent. Unlucky, you lost your job, unlucky, the loan sharks are at the door, unlucky, you're in toxic debt! Gamble again with me and we'll pay them off you see! Unlucky, you're dead. Next!




0

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.