GAME
Joseph Schell


It begs
It calls
It beckons
Its subtle call

and i hear it

Even i begin to concede
the hours mean nothing
progression means everything
i could never begin to want

to stop

quite simply the clock
is all that forms my boundries late
around this simple form
of entertainment

like a game

but is it really a game?
is anything ever
or am i just deceiving myself
a meloncholy thought

a form of art

so here i sit
with companions few
but each of them fighting
for me

or at least for themselves

no where will you find
such loyalty as this
as the person who sits beside you
trapped much like you

dead yet very much alive