Like A Board Game Poem by Theorem The Truth Serum

Here in this white room called a bedroom,
He lays upon the sheeted bed.
Covered by satins threaded in doubt,
He stays motionless and stares blankly.
His presumed failures weigh him down
Like the fat of a man who lives off a solid fast food diet.
He has broken his own heart a million times.
The adventures in woman made the cracks
Of his broken heart much bigger.
But his heart was stitched together by a last glimmer of hope,
He could still pull through by finding his stride within himself.
One foot on the stepping stone,
He had to stay on the stepping stones,
But he lost his balance here
And he lost his balance there.
How much longer do the stepping stones
Last for, he asked himself.
He knew the real answer,
They don't.
These are the stepping stones of life
And they run out when it is all over.
Wherever you stop is how far you got
Like a board game played by a family of four.