This was a game for the best of the best <br />Those who had crumbled, they had all left <br />Now at the table were four expert players <br />You could count on all of them, they were the stayers <br /> <br />They felt confident, that they were in with a chance <br />This game was their game, they knew the steps of this dance <br />But then at the doorway appeared a spectacular sight <br />They glanced up and received a terrible fright <br /> <br />For standing there in all of his glory <br />Was the Ciggie-Wiggie bluffster, now that is a story <br />This man was notorious throughout the land <br />For winning every time with nothing in his hand <br /> <br />He'd sit there calmly with a blank look on his face <br />And his opponent would start sweating, his heart would race <br />He'd fidget and fuss, his hands would start shaking <br />Even when he knew that the bluffster was faking <br /> <br />Because although he knew with his logical mind <br />That a hand full of nothing was all that he'd find <br />He'd fold every time, could not take the pressure <br />Those blank eyes had spooked him, he did not have their measure <br /> <br />(Sydney, Australia - 2003)<br /><br />Alessandra Liverani<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poker-game/
