This thing that I think of
Has many different shapes
It’s taller than an oak tree
And smaller than a grape
Is it triangular? That’s not what it looks like
Is it rectangular? No, not at all
Is it just round or oval or a circle or a ball?
It really is none of them all
This thing that I think of
Is colourful and bright
It’s darker than darkness
And lighter than light
Is it a rainbow?It has many more colours
Is it a neon sign? Nothing like that
Is it in purple or in green, in yellow or in red?
Its colour is nothing like that
This thing that I think of
Is like an uncertain game
You might win it or lose it
There’s noone you can blame
Is it a joker? It’s more than a card
Is it like poker? You have to take heart
Is it Black Jack or Roulette, the whole stake or a part?
Whatever it is, it always takes you apart
You’re losing control, then you’re losing heart
And nothing will ever be the same
‘Cause you can only stand this game
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Lars Schmitt.
Published on e-Stories.org on 02/15/2012.
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