Come In, Spinner

Ringkeeper calls, "Come in, spinner—let's play!"
Two coins are tossed; chance has its say.
The Heads men grin; the Tails men quake!
The spinner flips two old pennies; fortunes at stake.

First double-heads brings laughter through the ring;
The second makes the old bettors sing.
By the third, fourth, then fifth, laughter lies dead.
By number six, each Tail's man hangs his head.

"Crooked wrist!" some Tail's men start to cry.
"Throw those coins higher! Let them kiss the sky!"
"Change coins—they've learned the spinner's name!"
The Ringkeeper swaps them, calling for calm in the game.

"Start heads-up!" "No, tails-up!" voices flare.
"One of each on the kip—that's only fair!"
They blame the coins as though they could choose.
"Two Tails is overdue — you simply can't lose!"

"Don't name the break—it will shatter the streak!"
The spinner dares not let his confidence speak.
Chance holds a grudge; even gravity sighs.
The silent pennies rehearse their alibis.

One double tail appears; the six-head spell is through.
The ring falls silent, as frightened people do.
The pennies never knew the gambler's game—
We tossed ourselves, then gave the coins the blame.

Then Odds marched in: one head, one tail, repeat.
No side could claim the rhythm or the beat.
The coins had never learnt the game at all—
The circle claimed that odds changed after each fall.