The Devil’s Dice

These maybe’s can’t persist
Stuck as they are in what if’s
Shackled to possiblies
And the perception of more
But like clouds they drift
Whichever way the wind blows
Caught in the devil’s dice
Hoping they come up sixes
The overwhelming white on black
Blurring the margins
A counterfeit’s deadly curse
Wanting nothing but validation
The chance to become concrete
To be poured and solidified
In the school of public opinion
By the persistence of fear
Lost in the shadowed halls
Of subterfuge’s malaise
The click clack of heavy shoes
As purposeful as this life
Following the devil’s dice.

Sam