Playing the odds

The wheel keeps spinning round and round

If it is not my colour I have lost my last pound.

The horse keeps running pounding the ground

If he does not make up lost ground

I will have lost another pound.

This cycle cannot continue, the odds are against me.

But no, if my horse wins I will have plenty.

Why keep chasing I am not the horse.

 If he loses I might have to resort

to robbing a purse because I will be burst.

At last he wins I should walk away just after I get paid.

No. The dark hole sucks me back maybe I should go to a quack.

For he may be able to bring me back from the abyss I have allowed to engulf me.

All at the hands of the bookie.