paying pawns to play the kings game is for the poor
Im not playing it that way any more
my monetary weakness has me hamstrung for sure
but its not like I havent made stronger moves before
checkmate is an uncomfortable place to be
sitting waiting for their brave knights on contracts to come and get me
but as impossible as it may seem
I will extract myself from this trap they have me in
even if it kills me

they make our beds
then they lie to us
cry crocodile tears
while they dine on us
sow their seeds
in the fields of our lives
then force us to reap
all ten times the tithe

I have prided myself
on my piece of mind
sure in my head
that my thoughts were mine
but brought up in a prison
with the walls ill-defined
didnt need to be in jail
to be institutionalised

if theres a silver lining
im robbing it
ive had enough of waiting
for another hit
if theyll kick a down man
ill take a punt
reciprocate
put the boot on the other foot
if the shoe fits
wear it
when the other one drops
be prepared
unswerving
uncaring
when they kick my knees out
ill go down
killing and cursing

the truth of the universe
will almost certainly be
so blindingly simple
that we will never see it
the human propensity
to complicate things
would have us looking for the complexity
in a collection of nothing

never play never win
the lure of the game
is contained therein
which way you turn
when the walls
pin you in
will decide the direction
you are going in

i am the inky tip of my egos quill
sometimes needing blotting
always needing refilled
dipped into a bottomless well of will
i will stop at nothing
until my need is fulfilled