Hour Glass.

You saw your cards,

and you still played your hand.

Now you're waiting for the chips

to fall like hour-glass sand.

Shellshocked,

you froze.

There was nothing you could do.

So you sat and watched,

and carried the game through.

Every second was an hour,

and each hour, a day,

as down your face the beads of sweat

began to pave their way.

The final chance to leave,

sinks in like the claws of fear,

You're numb to all but the call

that the dealer now shouts clear.

They all saw your cards,

those that played their hands,

and you sat and watched as your chips

fell, like the hour-glass sands.