Lucky Me
I’ve always felt the hand I was dealt was more than fair,
Especially as I sit here and stare
At my homeland, the richest country on earth.
Then I remember parents who appreciated my worth.
They encouraged me to strive for ever new heights
While always discriminating the wrongs from the rights.
Ah yes, no doubt I was dealt a royal flush hand;
A hole-in-one, grand slam I couldn’t have planned.
At the heart of it all is monumental love’s feeling
That convinces me that life truly has no ceiling.
Happiness is for the taking; it’s right over there.
Lucky me…my dealt hand is so much more than fair!
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Related quotes
How About You
If someone showed you the way
Would you take the wheel and steer?
It hurts me that your not ashamed
Of what you're doing here
If they jumped off a bridge
Would you meet them on the ground?
Or would you try and claim
It never made a sound?
Everyone plays the hand they're dealt
And learns to walk through life themselves
Not everything in life is handed on a plate
When people think your words are true
It doesn't matter what you do
I sold my soul to get here
How 'bout you?
so you choose to force your hand
What a strange way to make friends
And you always change the rules
so the drama never ends
And you blindly go through life
Judging only but it's worth
Just try not to forget
That the meek inherit earth
Everyone plays the hand they're dealt
And learns to walk through life themselves
Not everything in life is handed on a plate
When people think your words are true
It does'nt matter what you do
I sold my soul to get here
How 'bout you?
So please don't take offence
This is just a point of view
'Cause I'm the only one who
Will say these things to you
Everyone plays the hand they're dealt
And learns to walk through life themselves
Not everything in life is handed on a plate
When people think your words are true
It doesn't matter what you do
I sold my soul to get here
How 'bout you?
song performed by by Staind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I keep living life as it's dealt to me. Sometimes, it's not dealt 100 percent. Sometimes it's dealt on the low '30s.
quote by Bobby Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death without purpose
death for me I must embrace,
death for me, is a OK place,
For death waits for me with open arms,
For I have dealt death,
Death is now being dealt to me,
For I thought I had a Angel,
A savior,
The person who pick me up and gave me purpose,
A love I had thought I never imagined,
Now this is gone if you could only imagine,
You had my soul, now my soul is gone,
Who am I with out you? With out my soul?
With out you making me hole,
Now death is awaiting me with a smile,
No purpose, no love, no soul,
Life and death, death and life,
they stand side by side in the end,
For now death hands me its hand,
I don’t know who I am,
So death once again offers its hand,
Such a easy offer right at hand,
For its a easy answer,
For all I feel, death does seem the sure deal,
Sorrow, pain, heart ache, purposeless, loveless,
Hate for ones self, for all the things I have done,
This sure seems the answer,
Death looks at me with a glean in his eye,
He knows I am tempted to take the easy way out,
Is that such a terrible thing to have offered?
Do be tempted to take?
What else is there now left for me to take?
What else do I have to be taken now?
If this is the choice I make,
Don’t mourn for me for its to late,
Don t show me sympathy I have to shake,
Just let me go,
I choose this, not you, not your blame
Take my soul,
It is your, once always, and forever,
When the going gets rough,
Remember what I stood for,
For I can not stand for myself,
I can not take the this feeling I have inside,
I'm lost with out you by my side.
Will I be judged for the things I have done?
The sins I have committed?
Well in the end it really doesn't matter, now does it?
Now death is waiting patiently by my side,
Now as I lye here awake with a gentle shake,
I know what it is to have death on my side,
So now I say goodbye,
Death is taking me for a ride,
poem by John Pollock
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The Hand That’s Dealt
A game of chance and double bluff
Deception relies upon the blink of an eye
The will to stand firm and do not fight
The hand that’s dealt decider of life
Do not blink or suspect the lie
For the experienced hand knows well
That a truth can become rewritten
To be believed with utter conviction
Judge not the night to come
Nor the morning after
Stay firm and resolute in all you see
Lest you miss a turn of the cards
The slide of hand, a change in play
A silence shall speak to answer suspicion
Upon the final call, a wait is over
And the hands that’s dealt
It shall deliver
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Zimbabwe - An Echo
The day before yesterday
they dealt with the terminally ill to free the hospitals.
Yesterday,
they dealt with those who did not contribute to the economy.
Today,
they dealt with those who oppose the government.
Tomorrow,
they will deal with those who have heard of a better life.
Next week,
do not be surprised at the truck
with bloodstains on its tailboard
at your gate tooting its impatient horn.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Young Traitor
Gran said
you can come with us
to the fair
Janice said
Provided your mum agrees
of course but Gran's
already asked your mum
so it's all right
you stood outside
the school gates
waiting for your mother
to come and pick you up
and so you said
Oh right that'll be good
but you didn't want Helen
to know you were going
to the fair with Janice
and even though
you hadn't planned it
or asked for it
you still felt guilty
about going
with Janice to the fair
and when Helen
came out of school
and stood waiting
next to you
for her mother
you hoped Janice
wouldn't say
anything about it
but Janice just stood there
smiling looking at Helen
as if to say he's going with me
to the fair and you're not
and Helen gazed at Janice
at the same time
putting her hand
near yours
and you could feel
her hand brush
against yours
and then she turned
and looked at you
through her
thick lens glasses
her eyes searching you
like a navigator
looking for a fresh route
to a new world
and Janice moved closer
on your other side
her hand seeking out
a finger to hold
and she said
Look here comes Gran
and she released
your finger and ran
and you stood with Helen
waiting
knowing her hand
was warm and feeling yours
and hoping she couldn't
read minds
or thoughts
or know about the fair
and she said suddenly
giving your hand a squeeze
Here's your mum and mine
let's go meet them
and off you ran
following behind
feeling a sense of betrayal
being a traitor to Helen
in your 7 year old mind.
poem by Terry Collett
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I'd like to meet a lovely man who shares my interests. On the other hand, I possibly will not. It's part of the hand you're dealt. It's a challenge-and I'm not atypical.
quote by Barbara Feldon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy mothers Day In Heaven
I reached for your hand, It wasn’t there
I needed your heart, you didn’t care
I was born to you, you couldn’t love me
I was a mistake, you needed to be free
I don’t blame you, life dealt you a bad deal
You never knew love, and could not heal
Abandoned yourself, a very young child
You needed your freedom, to be wild
Trapped like a wild animal all your life
So much burden to have children and be a wife
Made bad choices, abuse was all you knew
The worst of mankind is what you drew
You never healed from being a kid
I couldn’t understand back then, things you did
My biggest fear growing up, was being like you
I was so broken, but finally pulled through
You couldn’t accept my love till you got old and sick
I wanted your love through then and thick
I took care of you till the very end, my heart breaking
I needed your love, and it was finally there for the taking
So I want you to know if you can see me up there
You will always be in my heart, I’ll always care
Do I forgive you, I’m haunted by losing you again
I feel so lucky for the short time, before it had to end
It’s been two years now, I still carry the pain
I’ve always loved you, and it wasn’t in vane
The cemetery is painful, I know you aren’t there
But I can talk to you, please know I care.
Your life was tragic and so was mine
I’ve broken the curse and continue to shine
I hope you have, a wonderful mothers day
You’re with God now, and not others prey
So I say goodbye, once again for now
I’ll see you again, this I vow!
By Dogs4donna
© 2007 Dogs4donna (All rights reserved)
poem by Donna Nimmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Matters of The Heart
In
matters
of
the
heart
emotions
must
be
dealt
with.
It's
y ou and
I
no one
else
is
permitted.
If true
love
emerges
from
this.
respect
and
trust
must
come
into
play.
If not
this
relationship
will
cease
to be.
longings
and
desires
must
surface.
all
yesterdays
must be
dealt
with.
for
a
tomorrow
to
exist.
poem by Heather Burns
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The Hand I'm Dealt
I've been dealt a hand not fair or just,
Though in this game I know I must
Play my cards the best I can,
Since the same one deals to every man.
To whine and whimper in this game of poker
Is to lose my way and end up a joker.
The right path is always fraught with peril,
But all other ways are sad and sterile.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Lover And The Gamber
She sat on a bar stool,
her long legs dangling there,
drinking a coloured mix,
they called The Country Fair.
He sat at a table,
deck of cards in his hand,
laying them down for a game of solitaire,
the lover and the gambler.
For a brief few seconds,
as they looked around,
their eyes met in sweet seduction,
in that smoky bar downtown.
As the evening wore,
and customers began to leave,
it just left the two of them there,
the lover and the gambler.
Now if he played his cards,
close to his chest,
maybe with a bit of luck,
love would do the rest.
They looked again,
with a long lingering look.
She joined him at the table,
watched the hand that he dealt.
Each card was a heart;
cupid caught them both that night.
For now the lover and the gambler,
are now man and wife.
poem by David Harris
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I don't believe in organized religion - I dealt with them hand in hand, and a whole bunch of Catholic priests tried to molest me. Telling me I was gay and I should go home with them and stuff.
quote by Jonathan Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mystery Girl (part II)
Am I lonely or just fooling myself
Could it be that these are the cards that I dealt
Where is that place that love is felt
I want that bit of fire that makes your heart melt
When will I have my chance to float on cloud nine
When will I find that one woman whose only mine
I’m always thinking about her for she stays on my mind
Looking for her on a daily basis, Yes this is my grind
I hear people talk of love unconditionally
I cant wait to find that love that’s meant for me
I scream out to her and all I hear is my echo
When I find her I will squeeze her and never let go
As sit in this far away land
With a pen and pad in my hand
Only thoughts of happiness, In the mist of sadness
This is my life and believe this is not how I planned it
I said I would be married by now and filthy rich
But my dream is over now so reality sets in
Fairy tales don’t always come true in this world of sin
But I wont give up until my time has come
I will continue to search until my heart is won
Daniel Chapman
poem by Daniel Chapman
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If I dealt in candles, the sun wouldn't set; if I dealt in shrouds, people would stop dying.
It Was a Good Day
The Anniversary Hand
It was a good day
Everyday
It was a great time
All the time
Since I met you
It was a great life
Full of life
It was good together
Altogether
Just we two, plus two
And though it wasn’t perfect
Some might say
We think it’s good together
Day to day
This family way
It’s good to sit together
Looking back
We’ll carry on whatever’s
In the pack
We’re dealt
It is a good day
Everyday is grand
The King and Queen of Hearts
Are winning
Their Last Hand
(29 March 2007)
poem by Martin Swords
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The Scots [A Dirge]
Black Scots and red Scots,
Red Scots and black;
I hae dealt wi’ the red Scot,
An’ dealt wi’ the black.
The Red Scot is angry
Among the sons o’ men—
He’ll pay you a bawbee,
An’ steal it back again.
Black Scots and red Scots,
Red Scots and black;
I hae dealt wi’ the red Scot,
An’ dealt wi’ the black.
The Black Scot is frien’ly—
A brither an’ a’—
He’ll pay you a bawbee,
An’ steal back twa.
The Ginger Scot o’ a’ Scots,
The warst shade o’ Scot,
For he’ll pay ye naething,
An’ tak’ a’ you’ve got.
Black Scots and red Scots,
Short Scots an’ lang,
Ginger Scots an’ bald Scots—
I dealt wi’ the gang.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Hot Tub
you may not be the one for me but baby you're a lot of fun
let me come to your house my dear
drenching and smoke a robe
i wanna get in your hot tub baby
i wanna get in you now
so get in your car and pick me up
or i'm gonna put you down (2x)
please honey girl won't you be cool
do the voodoo doll that gives me
take the bench out of his butt maybe then give him a treat
i wanna get in your hot tub baby
i wanna get in you now
so get in your car and pick me up
or i'm gonna put you down (2x)
sometimes i'm so disappointed
i can't be more of a man
sometimes my life feels so empty
not merely love player hand
sometimes i'm so disillusioned
all my relationships fake
i have never dealt a problem
to be something other day (2x)
i wanna get in your hot tub baby
i wanna get in you now~
get in your car and pick me up
or i'm gonna put you down (2x)
i'm gonna put you down
sometimes i'm so disappointed
i can't be more of a man
sometimes my life feels so empty
not merely love player hand
sometimes i'm so disillusioned
all my relationships fake
i have never dealt a problem
to be something other day (2x)
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Innocence of Gold
I flicked of the TV
At a news report
About another child
Lost in innocence no more
I was once
An innocent child
Living so happy
Till I was dealt
One of life's blows
And just like the children
I learn of today
Losing their innocence
That's torn from their souls
It drowns us all
In the degradation of life
I want to scream
I want to shout
Make all this carnage stop
Why do you ask?
Would I even bother to say?
I just want you to know
What its like for a child
To lose in themselves
The innocence of gold
You cry with a passion
Inside your lost soul
You know not what to say
You know not what to do
You feel so alone
You feel so used
You hide all your secrets
And you cry every day
And pray ever night
Oh God take my life
You drown in your sorrows
Every single day
And wonder each time
What have I done in my life?
To deserve such cruelty
That's dealt this cruel life
But life goes on
You learn to be brave
You learn to ignore
Your family and friends
You learn to ignore
An out stretched hand
I know I am lucky
To be here today
So I advocate for children
Still trapped in this fate
poem by Kaila George
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Life is like a game of cards. The hand that is dealt you is determinism the way you play it is free will.
quote by Jawaharlal Nehru
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is like a game of cards. The hand you are dealt is determinism; the way you play it is free will.
quote by Jawaharlal Nehru
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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