Crumbling Dice

Contemplating age, a luckless look
The mirror won't tell a lie
The crow's feet crinkling near his eye
The lines of strain and laughter
The trenches that remain deeply on his brow
So many chances taken
Some victories, some no more than crumbled schemes

Still have time to roll the dice
Ignore the croupier's reptile eye
The cubes ricochet, cracking wise
Tumbling to lengthy lows, and fleeting highs.

Art by Wagatagaa