he played a hand, I couldn't play
the queen of hearts on an ace-high straight
now the cowboy is riding away
love sinks low like the setting sun
there were many things he could have done
the in and out; the revolving door
riding away this time for sure
the moon comes up on the final scene
casting its glow on what could have been
the queen of hearts, I played on your ace
was more than the cowboy's heart could take
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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