Poem

…the Game
By MwsR

Why do we think there is always time?
What is it that makes us thinks we are free from death or separation?
It is a constant mind game that we allow ourselves to play.
The object is denial and the rules are not written.

Each one of us is individually creating a falsehood for ourselves.
By not choosing to be a realist, we become avoiders.
We avoid thinking the truth because frankly, the truth scares people.
It is a self created “bubble” we live within.

Choices are for players in our game.
It is we, who determine which things we will choose to believe,
It is the lies that we tell ourselves that will inevitably lead to our capture.
There are no real winners, only players.

Each thing we bring to the game has its place and purpose.
We can play the hand of “luck” or we can make sure to strategically place our heart somewhere, or our mind and soul.
It is a game that lasts forever, well until the game is destroyed from continuous play and action.

Self-worth and self-love are key instigators as to who will take the lead or who will fall behind.
If we are lucky enough along the way there will be other players that for lack of a clue, will inadvertently hand us the chance to surpass them.
On and on till either fate steps in or we can’t play any longer.

If you have no conscience you will more than likely gather your share of highlights or prizes throughout, the game.
But if you have a conscience, that you keep at your side, you will struggle with the ultimate prize or in taking the lead.
Which one will you choose, which game player are you?

All rights reserved. MwsR 2021

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