i sit in front of this board again,
black and white squares, my oldest friend.
it’s quiet now, just me and my mind,
trying to leave all the noise behind.
the pawns stand lined like kids in school,
waiting to move, but playing by rules.
they move so slow, one square, then two,
like me some days, not sure what to do.
but pawns can change if they just believe,
they crawl to the end and the world they achieve.
people laugh, say pawns can’t win —
but they don’t see the fire within.
the knights confuse me, but they’re so brave,
jumping in ways no one expects.
crooked paths, but still they fight,
finding the board’s dark corners of light.
i feel like a knight most of the time,
my thoughts tangled up, my moves out of line.
but they still matter, they still play,
and somehow they find their way each day.
the rook’s a tower, so sharp and straight,
charging down lines, carrying weight.
i wish my heart was a rook sometimes,
strong and steady, not chasing rhymes.
and then the queen — she owns it all,
racing to answer every call.
she’s fierce and free, she never hides,
like my mom when she’s on my side.
the king feels trapped, so slow, so small,
yet everyone fights to protect his fall.
and i see myself in him sometimes too,
scared to move, unsure what to do.
but then i remember — the game’s not done,
until i say i’ve lost, until i run.
even if pieces are gone from the board,
even if plans don’t go as i scored —
there’s always a move, however small,
even if i’ve backed up to a wall.
maybe i’ll blunder, maybe i’ll fall,
but i’ll stand up and face it all.
the pawns will march, the knights will leap,
the queen will guard what i must keep.
i’ll lose some games, i’ll feel the sting,
but one day, i’ll protect my king.
and maybe i won’t be the best alive,
but at least i’ll know i chose to strive.
so here i sit, this board, my life,
with all its loss and all its strife —
but square by square, i’ll find my groove.
it’s still my game.
it’s still my move.
Vivan Saxena