Lizzie's GameA Poem by NGenieLThere's a boy, a chess board and a red scarf. Come on, little baby, catch me if you can. Lizzie lunged and falls. King and Knight impale and the red kisses her. The boy laughs, runs, and she shakes. Lizzie will watch the sky turn red. The scarf will be black, charred, dust, like the others. Rubble of bodies and buildings, frosted with red snow and ink and plaster that flours her dripping hands. Blood will rush at a height, She'll clutch her chess board and watch for the angels, Souls will shriek and bake and drown and roar, and the first move will be the pawn. A hot breeze will keep her alive, The screaming will die and she will play on, Black, White and Red. High above purgatory and repentance and regret, she will think about the boy. Angels will flee and the rest... they'll beg. Tiny ants in the sand, they're sorry, she's not. The Angels will cry and so will she, Because she's playing Red, not black, nor white. The boy comes back and lifts the red scarf, says "It's just a game" and then sits. Lizzie blinks and sees sunlight and feels a cool wind. There are greens and yellows, but there's also Blue and Brown.
© 2012 NGenieLReviews
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StatsAuthorNGenieLLondon, United KingdomAboutI'm English and a student and I cultivate words and mash them into some sort of meaningful slab of vaguely edible literature. At least, I like to think I do.. more..Writing
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