Short Stories! and poetry?

The Game of Chess

Chess

I don't want to move on

Knowing that I'll circle back around

spiraling....

down, down.

Let the smile invade

pushing away what seems so real

pushes away the pain

I can't feel

Rush to the system

run towards the goal

leave behind what matters

Forced to leave what makes me whole

Like I'm a copy of a pawn

lined up on every square

an evil master moves me

and yet I go nowhere

Always on the black squares and

never taking rest

never running free of stress

Trying hard to consider myself blessed.

But truth be told, I loathe the game of chess.