His Cards Were All Marked at

His Cards Were All Marked at


Sitting playing solitaire.

You reach absent mind idly

for the glass of woes!

While the music in your ears

brings back sad memories ,

from a time, never forgotten.


Slowly sipping,savouring,

the dark smokey liquid.

You drift back.

Cigarette smoke 

lazily drifts upwards

While long shadows fill the corners


The eyes,

slowly begin to glisten,

cards shapes and colours blur.

The pitiful bulb fails to stem ,

the omnipresent darkness,

and despair.


Shadows morph

Both friends and fiends

You pour yourself another

Soon a face fills your thoughts.

Clear as day

of a time long  past.


Now you're  totally  lost, 

alone, and forgotten .

Exploding shells, blackness

Screams and ricochets .

With only the dead for company.

On the battlefield of 



Giajl © Jim Love 

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