Cards was all he got. Twas all he could write. They stared back at him, the darting eyes inked, How cool your writ, that never changed. What if he could make his party spicy? What if I want to be there and dance? No need; I am but mere ink that stains Each and every white. That's how I moved. He took my ink, all the cardboard and boards! Ouch, there goes my pics and sole silk! I decorated myself for your party, and now... It's gone. He took us all, and scattered us round his room. That was how the music grew louder. I didn't feel much after that. My ink grew warm. We actually came to life! Woah, no crass. This whilst silence bade the night adieu. How was no one hearing this? We're alive! That music, where did you write it, or stream? Right. They arrived so soon! It was all a blur after. They thought we had the world in here! They were right. This one man in this tiny space gave one larger; How beautiful he did it himself. They told him he was supposed to be Muslim. They said he violated himself by Western treatise. The art of which grabbed him by ears, now by hair. They left us alone though! Not really. They grabbed all of us and we went with him. He just wanted to party, and now it's another. We just stood there like the rest of them. Only diff is we had faces drawn by him. Still smiled though. I could sure use some rain. Don't these people know how to chill? What do they think will happen? If Satan could laugh, God raised enough glasses. Then he ran. Far as the cards can see. He played his quite well. Played that ace and jacked them all. Sweet. Now when is it my turn?