Playing Field

A poem about the conflict of human will, the widespread "dog-eat-dog" mentality and our subjectivity to our own aspirations.

Beginners welcome,

 Pros praised

 We are far from the furthest phase-

 Reasoning, meaning, and effect are waiting

 I know the climax is near, though

There are too many amassing,

Too many seeking

For nobody to take the consistent curve thats baiting

For no furious outcome to be peaking,

While seasoning is placating

And we are seasoned well, I can tell

Travelling about on our disparate journies

Spicing up each other's ever-ardent adventures


What was the reason again?

I know the rules, but i'm lost in the amount of tools I see

So many puppets

So little puppet masters, externally

On the inside, who's in control?

The growing compromise of perception,

Or the one who's taking the toll?


The outsiders are catching up

Strafing, transitioning,

And patching up the wounds we gave them indirectly

They buried the collateral damage

And married the new, reformed vendetta 


Even out the playing field,

Too many headstrong, not enough to yield

But then again, thats how it goes-

So draw your shield

The End

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