Are the cards you hold all you perceive,
Or are they the ones you wished to receive
And you’re closing your eyes to living?

Is the ace that you think you hold
Only something you’ve heard or been told
Leading you to bet higher and continuing?

You see a three, you see a two
Your luck is in, they’re falling for you!
The banker is dealing!

Is that the five that you wanted so dear
That you prayed until certain your message was clear?
Is God finally listening?

A four, a four; what would you give?
To take away the taste, that’s so addictive.
You shake the card you’re holding.
Perception I’ve heard it said
Is how one views things, or how they’re read.
It can camouflage a life for good or for bad,
Giving happiness or making one sad.

Why not pray for happy, what’s wrong in that?
Life is so miserable wearing a dull, sad hat.
Why not dream some dreams that’s what they’re for!
Lay in a dream tonight and dream of that FOUR.

© 2015, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.


About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
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