The Cards We’re Dealt

A Lost Soul, darkened by troubles,
Handed an Angel a set of worn cards
With ragged, trembling hands.

The Lost Soul tried to speak
But years of torment–
No doubt by the cards–
Made speech difficult.

Filled with pity, the Angel
Leaned down and said:
“Speak. I will listen.”

“Gracious One,” the Soul whispered.
“If it’s not too much trouble,
Can you put these back
And deal me new ones?”

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Photo by Amisha Nakhwa