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
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