‘The Game of Life’
Where would we be?
Without the eccentric
Life would be square
And never concentric
Now and again
I need the odd
Wouldn’t it be wonderful?
If we were all god
My head’s permanently in a mangle
My life is a triangle
Looking askew
Life is always a left angle
I wish I were normal
I want to blend in
Yet I could never be formal
Men in white send in
You never see
My point of view
However, I can see
Straight through you
You think you would like to stand
On the outside of the frame
You never will because you think
That I am suited and it’s for the lame
You’re so happy
It is my game
It is my life
I am the man with no name
And so my life goes on
Out in rain, hail and smog
Spat at and pissed upon
Always the underdog
Forever last in; ‘THE GAME OF LIFE’
MICMAC
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem