false

This may be the game

but it is not mine

This may be the game

but it is not life

So much complexity

So many things to study

So many permutations

to distract us, keep us tangled

The hand you’re dealt, we’re told,

You have to play

You may be lucky, privileged or poor

Or maybe you are brilliant but disturbed

Addicted, disadvantaged, or a rising star

It only makes a little difference, though:

As long as we’ve consented to be playing

There isn’t very far that we can go

We all remain imprisoned in the game.

Today I mouth my infant words

of no

No, I won’t play; no, this is not my game

I won’t define you by your cards or course

I won’t pick up the dice of shame and blame

I won’t be cowed by game-incurred alarms

or things the game insists I have to prove

I won’t let any game-based definition

distract me from my purpose and my love.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 3, 2012