The Game of Life.

We start pure, white,
Oh so naive.
Our poker faces shatter,
We have our tells,
As the cards begin to run low.

Inevitability laughs at us,
Hiding scars that remain.
Understanding comes with time,
Of a fight we must lose,
Because death will do us part.

We end tainted, grey,
Oh so shrewd.
Our poker faces gone,
We own a face full of tells,
And hold an empty hand.

But we pride highly how we played.