The Most Dangerous Game.
Surrounded by crowds of people roaring.
A place where everywhere objects are soaring.
Beasts crouch on the enemies side.
Craving Victem blood, mouths open wide.
Where anger is unleashed.
With fists clenched and ammo released.
Filled with grit and determination.
There is no rest nor relaxation.
One false move will result in defeat.
The opposing beasts will have you to eat.
Zebras dictate the outcome here.
They call out the cheap ones and keep things clear.
But then once the fat lady sings the final sound,
The game has ended and the victors are crowned.
Lord Stanley in Silver comes out to play.
With only the ones who survive that day.
The call of desire
At wonders they admire
The Bulls spot the red.
Blocked for now
But they'll get that red
And they don't care how.
Yesterday was full
For every Beast
Each took a bird
For a nice long feast
Greatful for this,
but eager for more.
the beasts couldn't wait
to enter the store
A working community
Familiar with each other,
but not yet brothers
Then time passed
Adversity trounced onto the shoulders
of every individual
filled with desire and motivation,
propelled them to thrive
As the hands of time continue to revolve,
there comes more problems to be solved,
but these hearts and souls prevale,
even with their best effort,
Win or lose they have each other
In this game like no other:
Wings, Pizza, Pasta, Steak.
Parties in my mouth.
The savory taste of victory.
As it travels,
the effect wears off.
The calories give my stomach
the not so sweet
taste of defeat.
Carrots, Celery, Pickles, Peppers.
I think about them,
and try not to hurl.
They make known
their bitter unwanted presence
as I gulp them down in disgust.
My face turning green.
My stomach however,
welcomes its visitors.
Happy to see them