March 26, 2018

When did you start to tilt,

Force your rage against the machine,

Try to lift it up off its bearings,

Shake as if your life depended upon it,

Forfeiting the little any of us were even caring?

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Why did you start to tilt,

Working the hustle as the cards got laid on the table,

Convinced your enemy had bluffed,

Staying pat when you needed help,

Not even anticipating when the pot was swooped up?

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Who are you to tilt,

When there is nothing pressing on you,

When you have no right to slant,

No ill winds to blame for your stance,

And all you have left is a pathetic rant?

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Do you call that a tilt

As you charge in with your lance,

Thrusting blindly and without concern

Of hurting the innocent bystanders,

The ones you claim to defend in turn?

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How will you tilt

When the warring flag you carry

Has no support to be erected

Over the bemused enemy camp

That you once so easily neglected?