HO HO WHOA Second Chance algorithm drawing for January 17, 2025

No matter I kept fingers and toes crossed,
and waited with bated breath since January 2, 2025
even converted from skeptic to orthodox Judaism,
and strictly followed the Torah,
Talmud, and traditional Jewish laws,
and made good on the gamut
of my misdeeds considered a shonda,
nevertheless yours truly
courtesy the powers at large fell,
not slated to win
(til death do me part if lucky),
and thus one mediocre
poet from Perkiomen Valley
reduced to a life of panhandling,
(which required a bit of skill let
said modus operandi,
no more lofty a trade
than being a pickpocket)
essentially a nobody, outcast
without a podcast, pariah, et cetera),
who plodded himself
along the boulevard of broken dreams
relegated as an American idiot,
no matter a supposed
hidden potential of smarts
attested to be placed in section 7B1
predicated on his native intelligence,
proved the naysayers right,
when nearly failing every class
while in seventh grade
at Methacton Junior High School,
and in fact got demoted to section 8B3
after getting promoted to eighth grade,
and no matter the learning material more my speed,
I vowed to swear off doing homework
and nearly witnessed
complete and utter failure as fait accompli,
but the fickle finger of fate
decreed the writer of these words
destined to weather freshman peers
(psychologically and metaphorically leagues
ahead of one poor boy figurative lost at sea)
getting promoted despite
unpreparedness and emotional unreadiness
as the winds of fate buffeted one sophomoric lad,
who beat a hasty retreat
to his bedroom at 324 Level Road
when the mental going got rough,
and thence found safety and security
playing with imaginary friends Harney and Dinny 
(themselves doppelgangers of him)
subsequently no strangers to academic rigors,
yet always buckled down when most assignments
completed in a timely fashion,
especially prompt with essay assigned
when Mister Bergey (math teacher)
asked students to write composition
why school books ought to be covered,
and said lorthew got a kick
when mine dealt with keeping property
free and clear of getting peanut butter all over,
and additional relative, innovative,
and creative whimsical humor.

Unsuccessful track record,
and a poor sport to boot
(always the last to be chosen
for team sports at recess),
I felt like just another brick in the wall
and loathed every single solitary day
riding the bus (and getting bullied)
to and from storied halls of learning
sought succor thru flights of fancy
particularly when old enough
to gamble away scant resources
allowing, enabling, and providing
fantasies found me to gambol
with illusions of grandeur
where becoming the recipient
of a truckload of monetary largesse,
hence frivolously purchasing lottery tickets
particular penchant prevalent after experiencing
a financial fiasco after getting fleeced
by godless enterprising con artists.
I frequently counted my chickens before they hatch
particularly after purchasing
PowerBall or Mega Million tickets,
which randomly drawn numbers never match
after one of two main types
of lottery-drawing machines applied,
either the former air mix machine
or the latter gravity pick machine:
Now the air mix one
blows numbered ping-pong balls
around in a chamber,
where numbers randomly selected
when they get sucked
out of the chamber and displayed.