Fear of Fall

In the trite carom-games played then,
finding myself at the receiving end, 
I would scatter all the coins,
create chaos, decide the end,
of the game. Only choice, if at all,
was to start all over again.
No fear of banishment, no shame
in being touted a renegade.

At the 'receiving end' again, all
cues in the game of life missing,
retreat is impossible. Chaos'
seems easy to create, 'n start
afresh. But the high stakes,
ignominy of defeat, fear of fall,
are scary, standing tall. 

I was braver, then, after all.