Spontaneous Works of an Endless Dreamer (Poetry)

The Ultimate Game of Strategy: Chess

There is a possum  

Sitting yonder in the cherry tree, 

Among cherry blossoms. 

~ 

The possum runs to meet the ground, 

The pads on it's paws, make not a sound, 

Hears but a noise and flips around, 

It's little heart does pound, 

But it needn't worry, 

And hasn't anything to fear,  

as it looks out the pier.  

~ 

The possum plays in the field, the meadows 

When the winds of time blow, 

And sweet flowers grow, 

A bunny bounces, 

A fawn flourishes and flounces, 

And the world, full of happiness, 

In actuality, 

A game of chess. 

~ 

You move your queen, 

I move my king, 

As I cower from your attack. 

The possums defense has a lack, 

A gaping hole, 

Not fulfilling it's full potential. 

~ 

Your knight takes my king, 

My bishop, your castle, 

And I am at check, 

Retrace my steps 

You try, 

Against all chances I will try, to defy, 

What is, what was, and what could have been. 

~ 

The possum, shot to the ground,  

You look around, 

And know, 

As I move out of check,  

To a defense, you see the shadow of my black chess pieces to your simple white king, 

Outnumbered.  

The shadow crosses your face, and that possum,  

Poor possum, stands not a chance. 

Your king, there for the taking.  

Check. Checkmate.  

You look to the possum, is it  

....dead?  

Nobody, nothing deserves to die..  

People who deserve to die, live, 

People who deserve to live, die. 

Isn't that how it works?  

~ 

But it's the fact that you question yourself. 

You could easily take the king, 

As you could just as easily take the possum. 

You think it's dead....  

But is it?  

Looks deceive. 

Who shall you, what shall you believe? 

You look to your opponent, but a child, a kid. 

And so you, think twice, purposely let them win. 

They smile, are happy. 

What's the price for a little happiness?  

You help your enemy up, leave the possum be, what'd it ever do to you?  

It's a second chance. 

Isn't that what we all deserve?  

Because, we all make mistakes, 

And one day, not for granted will it be take, 

When you find yourself in that same situation, 

And they, though your enemies, help you. 

It feels good to do good, 

Two rights never make a wrong, 

And one mustn't always have to win. 

You see, a memory, a simple cherry blossom,  

Makes you see who you really are. 

Checkmate.

A/N: A friend requested a poem on a possum. Somehow it became a grand poem about chess, in addition to such. However that works, ha.