The Cruelest Game

(The Open)

Outside must have been raw and bleak
For the stoves' fire I knew to seek.
At my age, only four years old,
I knew both physical and mental cold.

That day Mom slide down wall,
to the floor
From the beating she received again, once more.
Finding her earring for her as she cried
Crying, crumpled in a heap on her side.

I looked at the empty shelves near the door,
Where photos and things were just before.
That stove had eaten them as I stood near
Dad fed it all my mother held dear.

Should have been my deepest desire
Was him hurling me into the fire.
It would have been kinder then, for me
What ultimately happened? -Let's see

(The Play)

The Mom I honored and cared for, you see,
Turned vengeance, not to Dad, but onto me.
Perhaps it was just because I had his name.
Probably, it was the rules of the game.

The beatings she took to her delight
For she passed them on before the night.
He made his move, and it seemed to be
Her counter was quadrupled upon me.

I learned my life, before to long
Felt vengeance if her move was strong.
Lashing back would have brought no blame
But that'd be 'gainst rules of the game.

Dad's attack could be more subtle and clean
Soft words to the pawn can be still mean.
Win me to his side, for I hold his name.
Urge me to always follow the rules of the game.

He the king, and she the queen
And me? - Stuck in between.
I am still their pawn, I confess.
In their perverse game of Chess.

Each has to win, no matter the cost
Even if the pawn is lost
To hurt the opponent attack what's near.
Damage something the other holds dear.

That's where I come in, do all of the math.
Pawn or proxy, I stand in the path.
However you say it, it's just the same.
They're only following the rules of the game.

Mom died, of cancer, one hot summers day,
Though not for a moment did it end the play.
Dad plays his pawn just the same.
He still follows the rules of the game.

You'd think with one of the opponents gone
The game would now and forever be done.
But still the malevolent play carries on
In hopes somehow this game can be won.

Check

In years to come when he too is gone
Perhaps I'll still be out there alone
Repelling attacks from ghosts just the same.
Eternally, following the rules of the game.

Maybe I'll get just one moments sleep
In a grave cold, silent, and deep.
Before to hell I've unwillingly came
to once again follow, the rules of the game.

Checkmate