The Game

Life is playing a game without all the pieces

With each tick of privilege you chance increases

Starting out you may have an advantage

Because your parents may have somehow managed

to assemble the board, or the cards, or the tokens

Or maybe they’re too scarred, too scared, or too broken

Maybe you’re born with a mouthful of silver spoon

Or maybe you discovered your birthright roughhewn

Perhaps you’ve never known hunger or that some go unloved

Or it could be you’ve been neglected or boxed without gloves

Maybe your sweet sixteen was tender and kind

Or your mom’s gone to get high again, drunken, and blind

Maybe you’ve always known that college was the on the table

Or maybe you’re the living moral of Aesop’s fables

The game doesn’t end until your dying day

But while you’re alive, you’re required to play.

Assemble the pieces as best as you can

with the knowledge you glean from every human

Roll the dice whenever it’s possible

learn from your mistakes; your choices are not impossible

Have faith in your heart, remember oneself

This game ain’t for wimps, but it IS do-it-yourself