I stare down at the tabled card,

Like deciphering a rune.

Then it stabs me like a shard,

It is the Wheel of Fortune.

Normally a sight to behold,

Reflecting change or karma.

But upside down, truth be told,

It symbolises drama.

Whether clinging to control,

Or stuck within a rut.

Change becomes the goal,

No ifs or ands or buts.

I think of what this means to me,

The aspects of my life.

That must be it, it couldn’t be…

I have to leave my wife.

And with my fate decided,

My hand has been revealed.

She finds herself blindsided,

“This isn’t fucking real?”

“You’re really going to leave,

Because a card said so?”

“I’ll leave you to grieve,

But I’m sorry I must go.”

Ten years — now nought to show,

With the one I chose to marry.

But as I play tarot,

That’s the curse that I must carry.