Sly Poem by petero zeddy

i was told that the games we play may hurt those that we love or mostly those that love us,
they said that the world is a stage and we are the actors on stage,
this time the plays theme was character development,
this is a phrase that means that pain makes you stronger,
in this i was the villain and the play had no hero,
no more characters were included i don't know why,
the script was not well written before the play could be enacted but to hell with logistics people just want to have fun.
i was the hunter you were the prey,
i was set up, the kill was set up yet i thumped my chest bragging of victory, the prey was set up for me but its okay i felt good while it lasted.
now the prey was wounded but by planning now what did i want with my kill i was purely vegetarian what do i do with game meat,
i took it back to the cabin skinned it, lit the fire and before i could stomach it to cook me it hit me....
this is not who you are and the kill is not worth it,
i had to put out the fire but harm was already done
lights out the end of the play,
the prey at the center stage still bloody,
the hunter scathed by his conscious,
this was not him.
i am sorry teary he said but not audible enough for her to hear,
the audience boos as the curtains are closed.
THE END