Twas the morning after powerball and all through the land,
Not a creature was stirring, crushed tickets in hand;
The exotic trip pamphlets lay strewn on the floor,
The hopes of that trip dashed ever more;
My ‘I QUIT’ letter I saved in e-mail
Never to be sent, my numbers did fail;
Oh 16! Oh 24! Oh 33 and 47!
Oh 49 and what’s that? 11?
How could I have erred, my vision I blame,
Tis the morning after powerball, when’s the next game?