You Can’t Always Win


I sat in the quiet, sterile room
Across from the dark-hooded man in my dreams.
"I tried my best. Couldn't they see that?"
"You can't always win," said he.

I took his cane from his bony hand.
"I was so generous. I gave them everything."
Again, "You can't always win," said he.

His cane was not made for walking.
It was no cane at all. Rather, a scythe.
"My heart, my brain, they used it all."
And again, "You can't always win," said he.

I gashed my wrist.
"I feel so much, yet I am empty."
Once again, "You can't always win," said he.

Finally, I sliced my throat.
"You can't always win," said he.
Then, with a wicked grin, "But I do."
And then, he waltzed away.

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