There is a game we play. Black and white, as they are. 64 is just a number, as are cats' nine lives or our one heart. You are a pawn if you are first. Reason out your sacrifice, within. When someone crosses, die hard. Relations are straight. Go, meet and stay. When needed we know You and I become animal, diagonal. Eat up and carry the leftover. Escapists wait for two and a half. When no one is looking, they jump, at night. They prey. You and I are pawns. Like emotions and trees we never go back. I die when he kills. Or else squares make me a vegetable. Money is like a rook, Traverses here to end, Scaled to be one-dimensional it is. Then Life castles. We trade humans for emotions. Love migrates, We call it a defense. Beyond all these, time excuses itself as we blindly fit ourselves to those 64 squares. Win, lose, mutual, checkmate! Why do we always have a story to tell? SoUmY@
Some Memories are hard to hold on So I put them on words.