Blackjack : Winning is Cheating

A Poem

When learning to play games as kids,
The object was quite clear.
Do the best that you can do
And attend to what you hear.
The object is, of course, to win
While higher values drifted by-
But we never were warned
Nor did we suspect
That working to be the best was a lie.

In a casino one night in the past
Watching '21' from the far side,
I saw a man escorted out of the room
After winning a greenback landslide.
I found out later that he'd been 'counting,'
An illegal sin per the owner's whim-
He'd simply learned how to win the game
And for that they were punishing him.

So playing to win isn't always OK,
It depends on whose making the rules.
And though we were taught that smart figuring counts
Casinos are clearly not schools.
Not in the usual sense, at least,
Where knowledge is used to achieve-
At least when it comes to playing Blackjack
If you can win, you are invited to leave.

It doesn't seem fair and it doesn't seem right
That winning is a breach of the rules,
The Casino owners and their silver-spoon progeny
Must attend very different schools.
More like the ones politicians populate,
Where laws and rules protect themselves
From losing their power, wealth or esteem
Should we happen to earn a few bucks by our work
That threatens their fat with some lean.

A gambler I have never been, but I DO know how to count,
And should I stumble up to that velvety green-
I'd use it to balance those accounts.
Casino owners and politicians.
Two peas in a pod under different conditions.