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The Game

This whole place is like a game.
There are rules and jumps,
and several lanes.

One for the faithful,
One for the lost,
One for the unsure;
But to play there is a cost.

It’s time; something we have little of.
Something we are greedy to give up.

And every second I waste playing this game,
I wonder if my time could be served better in another lane.
Or maybe on a different field?

Where the grass is much greener.
Where there are no rules to break,
the uniform just an apathetic demeanor.
There’s no one to let down
And the people stay out all night,
Where the shadows can hide their frowns.

The moment I let myself wish
that I could be in that place,
one that’s the opposite of this,
I see beyond the shadows they so cleverly use,
Full of people and bottles that care nothing about you.

The moment I find myself wanting to switch lanes,
I realize I’m as immature as the ones who couldn’t even finish the game.





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