Chapter 1 – Any Game

Hearts grow fond of

Each other’s company.

It’s a wonder our

Legs don’t grow together

Breaking the ribbon

In a three-legged race.

Empty sadness

At the fair’s end

Consoled by first prize and

Some chocolate pie

Winner’s pride

Soon subsides as

Lonely gloating

Gets silly in the backseat

Or the rearview mirror.

Tiny wrinkles in your skin

Just like his

Give away the prize

Laughingly you embrace

You own reflection

As your only friend

At the end of every competition

The race goes on

So, produce or

Be e-rased.

You can dance and play

But you are nothing

Until you create

The taste is sweet

Of any game.

Make my day