The Hands Of The Game Poem by Shea Anderson

A clock, Invented long ago, holds the hands of time, with many meanings. One appeals to me. The one I l ove fights a war, where can not be told. The hands of time ticks life away second after second life, to the hands are played as chess, your mission, protect the king, for he holds the power to win. As I protect my heart, from all but the one who struck out with my love. Day to day I think how the hands took her away, as the queen she will lean on love. When I call checkmate I know love will turn back the hands of time.