Its All Just A Game

Folder: 
Soul Poetry

LIFE, what a funny and scary thing,

Here I wander around, without a CLUE

and with a pounding, confusion HEADACHE,

while others go flat-out forward, like a BATTLESHIP.



But they have no prepared STRATEGY

of which they carefully follow,

and that only leads them,

to certain and sure, TROUBLE.



Assuredly, I'm no MASTERMIND,

but certainly, one would think, one would surmise,

that always foolishly taking the RISK,

can and will, lead to eventual failure.



But alas,

its all just a MONOPOLY

of endless timeclock moments,

and never in any set SEQUENCE.



I'm very SORRY to say,

that its just a dead-end...

Another mere TRIVIAL PURSUIT they seek,

that's gets them going nowhere even faster.



And in their must-have PERFECTION world,

all they seek to see in others,

is masked, solidly, and surely

by their very own concieted OBSESSION.



Thinking they can just bypass all,

and GO TO THE HEAD OF THE CLASS of society,

they have no qualms whatsoever,

to being the SIMON, who says.



Having no iota of MEMORY or care,

of those they TRAVERSE upon and over,

while stuck in their SOLITAIRE self-absorbed state,

they just strike out onward, for their EASY MONEY.



And in a make-believe, fake-fronted world,

such as that which they live in,

I'm left to often question, and PROBE, baffled,

WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE?



For they are all in dire JEOPARDY,

of loosing all they hold, selfishly dear,

when left to depend on the results,

of yet another 'plastic-people' OPERATION.



These BARBIE, QUEEN OF THE PROM,

and  Donald TRUMP wannabes,

live in constant DREAM DATE, ideal condition,

in their look-alike DREAM HOUSE mansions.



In an ANTS IN THE PANTS world,

where everyday is PAYDAY,

and payback is utmost priority,

the MOUSE TRAP for humanity, is set.



They move others haphazardly around,

like a ROOK...nay, a pawn,

on their stone-face-carved chess board,

and its an effort to just, STAY ALIVE.



When you no can longer even CONNECT FOUR corners,

in a square of simple empathetic thought-

its bound to go eventually,

'KERPLUNK, and they, BONKERS.'



I'm loosing all CONCENTRATION,

in this taxing mass-confusion,

of a people-perfect-populous,

gone TYCOON reaching, CAREERS climbing, crazy!



Its DEAL OR NO DEAL, WIN, LOOSE OR DRAW,

for they'll just move on to the next transaction,

pretending with a POKER face CHARADES,

to be more than they actually are.



No, they'll just briskly SCRABBLE on,

giving days more hours than available,

always loosing out on the important..

always explaining with an, "I'm SORRY!"



Stuck in such a deadly TWISTER,

all they can blindly do, in their upper-class PIT,

is wait out the storms of  their self-imposed,

'numero UNO' mindset.



Its 24/7/365, 'no day closed',

of MALL MADDNESS,

and spend, spend, spend,

in their monetary OUTBURST.



WHO, WHAT WHERE OR WHEN, matters not,

as long as THE PRICE IS RIGHT.

And I think, "DON'T PRESS YOUR LUCK,

you pompous, overindulgent fools."



They set themselves up,

in a dangerous LABYRINTH,

and the only way leading out, means coming

face-to-face with the HANGMAN of collection.



They TOSS ACROSS their plastic funds,

like its the CATCH PHRASE of the day,

with no forthought in their CRANIUM,

of payments coming eventually due.



Oh, it does BOGGLE the mind-

How often they recklessly spin

their WHEEL OF FORTUNE,

and think themselves such LUCKY DUCKS.



They live in their societal PASSWORD only, darkness,

like that of OTHELLO,

where a nouveau riche TABOO,

is imparted by GUESS WHO? Themselves.



They are SNAKES ALIVE!

Yes, SNAKES IN THE GRASS.

Snakes just coiled and waiting to strike

and bite the hands that feed them.



They are mankind's AGGRAVATION,

content with always ascenting

their DUNE of prosperity,

while kicking sand in the faces of others.



They DON'T BREAK THE ICE slowly-

safely chipping away, bit by little bit.

No, they dive headfirst into the iceburg,

and its a NO-BRAINER, their outcome.



Its a COMBAT of wills...and of classes,

and they, having no CONCENTRATION

for the simple things that matter of life,

just aimlessly GO FOR BROKE.



Often, I DON'T SPILL THE BEANS,

but this is of the utter obvious-

this pompous thinking, they can go down and up,

carelessly, on CHUTES AND LADDERS.



Knocking away all those,

who block the paths of their upward climbs,

to the top and beyond, they REBOUND,

and don't even BLINK, nor FLINCH.



HANDSDOWN, they are the vultures,

swooping down, to peck away at the carcasses

of those they sink their claws into,

and BINGO! They devour again.



Smiling and snubbing their noses in unison,

they un-graciously tip the coat CHECKERS,

the doormen, the valets and maids,

so phony in their overly-sweetened, CANDYLAND minds.



Oh, but they'll one day TOPPLE-crashing down,

fall steadily, like tipped rows of DOMINOES.

And having no aces, no dice to roll, no paper money to spend,

and no piece to move on forward...they have finally-



....lost the game.






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