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Poetry
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| Games | |
| By Crayfish | ||||
| 17 May 2006 | ||||
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I need help with this. I wrote this pretty randomly and didn't really think about it. I like the rhyming, but I want to be sure the meaning isn't too hidden. Is life a game? Well, then what is a game? Checkers, chess, dominoes? Eliminate, checkmate, dominate, Win or lose, love or hate, Black and white, a grid-like fate, If life ain’t joy it’s second-rate, Can love be shunned, can love be late? Is hell or heaven merely bait? Locked away beneath a grate, A plastic piece, a candidate, For which hope can never permeate, Who yells Just wait, please just wait! But a clock ticks and a dice rolls on a glossy plate, A warped reflecting, scratched-up plate, And you walk with all but a steady gait, And your death is merely a determined date, Your power’s gone. Exterminate.
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