Sick, Twisted Game

yet another question poem I wrote for poetry class

Will things change?

this ever lasting game.

people are your pawns,

their life in your control.

Will things change?

your twisted fantasies.

a lying manipulator,

the player of this game.

Will things change?

Will you finally loose?

or will you conquer all,

and win this demented game?

Reviews

[Michaela rose wilz]

nice