Fortune Favours The Brave Poem by Mark Heathcote

You've shuffled men like a deck of marked cards.
But please choose your hand wisely, very carefully.
Because whatever cards you hold onto this tightly,
They'll never be right.
Look, peep, trust me, I'll never hurt you, so have some faith,
I'll bankroll your trust; I promise you this much,
This isn't about lust.

Don't sell yourself short for chunk change or greed, honey.
Otherwise, 'for the rest of your days, ' you'll be the one left crying.
You'll be left begging for some unwarranted, kind of compensation.
You might shuffle men and orchestrate their fates.
In a Greek-like tragedy, a deck of cards in a game of solitaire
But please, honey, choose; you're playing hand very carefully.

Because whatever cards you've decided to hold onto—
I'll promise you I'll never hurt you, so have some faith in me.
Don't shuffle or twist.
Because really, I'm the one! I'm the one! Winning-hand
You can take me to the bank, the Bank of Rio Grande.
And that isn't me playing you at cards, honey,
Or me guarding my hand—that's me being quite frank.