I am currently engaged in a chess match.
The stakes are high – a future.
Somehow when my strategy gets torn
I find a way – to suture.
More often, though, I find myself in Check.
So far, I evade – capture.
It seems I shall be playing this gruesome game
Until my death – or rapture.
Indeed, I am sly, and clever as a fox, for now.
I can stay alive – be sure!
But one small slip… no! Better to not think it.
See how I am strong – mature!
I can slip into the smallest crack and live,
Make use of each available – feature.
I have made it this far, on my own, you know.
I’ve had no master – no teacher.
But how I wish, I wish this game would end.
To great already is – my expenditure.
Though I have always found another way
Another way – to insure.
To be sure.
Sophia, good use of metaphors! A really interesting write to be sure! Brian
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poetry really moves me. It has in spited me to try and write. I have ‘hope.’