Knees curled to my chest,
with new arrivals in my head,
they say they are guests.
"Rise to your feet" they beg,
"you need to be at your best."
I smile, "it's a trick, this is a game," I say.
I'm just a pawn on your board of chess.
These guests gave an eerie smirk,
igniting fireworks of their wicked words.
Busying my mind like clockwork,
until it feels like I'm going beserk.
Mold me into your personal artwork
because I know in my thoughts,
you will forever lurk.
Broken, tainted — this is my form
who's unable to be reworked.
Quietly, they stare as I stood.
Future, to you I cannot move, because first — they need to approve.
And these voices tell me:
I have nothing, I am nothing, self-worth removed by their outstanding countermove.
This is me in my final form —
incapable of containing my blues.
Nothing. Nothing to glue, nothing to lose. The virtue of the wicked's excuse.
Simply, a pawn on your board of chess,
knocked down and my value plummets to everything that's less.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Thoughts
PuisiA collection of amateur poetry and quotes written by me. •Regular updates• Copyright © 2020 by Nawaal. RB (RBN_Books). All rights reserved. ... Awards: 1st place #Non-fiction in the Golden Writer Awards Most Impressive Rankings: September 2020 #1...
