Turned Tables Poem by Lorene Kinsey

Two hands on the rods and it is like old times, only less naive.
Just a game and a group of people that came with it-
chose to protect his playtime over his life, his old friends
over his girlfriend, child, new wife.
Always knew I fell last in line, though seeing how he has
spent eight years protecting this part of his life
and neglecting me makes me sick.
I suspect it has always been more than a game
that I have been contending with.
Only now that he sees who holds the keys
to the life he will lead.