*This is kind of a continuation of my earlier pawn poem that I wrote. It goes through the phases of my love life*
~The Pawn and The King~
Is it wrong that I want the King
As I shuffle across the board?
He's the perfect angelic piece
But he's guarded by his angelic court
They charge at me, mounted on their horses
I dodge moving one space at a time
I count the steps to victory
The wrong move will end my life
I'm jealous of the Queen
She gets to sit by his side all the time
She is holy and graceful
I feel so lowly in my black garb
Still I peddle forward
Coming face to face with the King
Who am I to love him
As he throws his crown to the floor?
~The Queen and Her Knight~
On the checkered battlefield
The Queen has but one chore
She protects her King at all costs
She's got to settle a score
What happens when a knight comes in
Dressed like Lancelot?
Guinevere will fall in love
And down comes Camelot
On the checkered battlefield
A Queen has but one chore
She should protect her King
But she wants her knight more