The Oldest Game Played Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.

Initiating disturbances,
And claiming to be victimized...
Is decreasing in its effectiveness.
People finally are opening their eyes.

The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.

They begin with pretense to befriend someone.
Like the smile of a demon,
To ensure its welcome.
And then to make claims...
Of something despicable the innocent one has done,
To then defame and assassinate good character...
With a perception that success,
Is soon to be won!

The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.

Those 'Woe is me I don't know what happened' facades...
Are being stripped away for what they are.
Those who deceive and lie,
With pity party invitations...
Have devastated friendships and relationships,
Behind masqueraded false faces.

The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.

'Why would they lie like that?
Deceive and create conflict? '

~What is it that you have they might perceive,
As a value to them? ~

'Well...
Nothing I haven't with them shared.'

~They did not want it shared!
They wanted it theirs.~