This is one I wrote a couple of weeks ago. I'd like to know what y'all think.
The Chess Game
A small, off-white piece moves first,
Advancing on the dark black army,
Hinting at a bigger plan.
The black army moves,
Responding to the sly movements
Of the creamy other player.
Within a few moves,
The obstacles have been removed,
Leaving the heart of the game exposed.
Black takes advantage, moving in,
Wounding the rest of my white army.
I protect the king with all I have left,
But it’s too late—I’ve given you my white king.
Your move.
2007-10-02
12:06:02
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4 answers
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asked by
Amelia
6
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry