Play Not this Game

Nothing you know

of pain

of regret

of hate

of defeat

hidden in your white castle

high upon the hills

look down upon the serfs.

This is not a fairy tale.

This is real life

where walking the streets

can be a death sentence

if you don’t look right.

Battered doors

broken windows

shelter from the cold

the exhaustion etched

grey cold in my skin

while you

you play

you laugh

up high on the playground

pretending you know

this life I live

this nightmare no one

awakens from.

Come down little prince

come down to the streets

come down to reality.

Crouch down

piss your pants

life on the streets

its lost its luster

the sparkle gone

you rabbit home

playing games no more.

©Nov. 28/19

***This poem was inspired not only by Word of the Day Challenge but as I sat here watching Dropping Cash LA on Netflix. One of the ‘celebrities’ followed was an entitled asshole who got under my skin. 

Picture via PInterest