The room dead silent.
Not a cricket chirps
While we wait for the flop.
Hands are turned over,
All money is in.
This is the end play,
Then we all go away.

I look back at my hand,
I have but one way to win.
It is a long shot,
I am no longer a favorite.

The flop is shown,
Showing the clear winner.
So he lets out a hardy laugh,
Thinking he has won,
But here comes the turn.
It shows promise for others,
But none for myself.

My chance is the river,
I noticed in a flash.
The straight approached,
Right under their nose.
My voice is shaking,
My hands tremble,
And my eyes go silent.
Then in the river,
I catch the straight.


The first to notice,
But the last to laugh.
I walk away victorious,
Excited for next
Saturday.