Pawns, rooks, kings,
The poor, middle, and rich,
Three different society types,
Trying to come together,
Now how the hell will that work?
Kings give no sympathy to the pawns,
Even if the pawns just one the game,
But why would they?
The underdog, the little guy, the fat man, the short,
The bald, the bullied, the person to pick on,
Day by day, night by night, week by week,
The king WILL rule the world.
Oh wait, I forgot a piece.
The rooks, your fakers
Your backstabbers,
Your two facers,
Who stab you in the back, even if you turn your back for one second.
I suffer,
The pawns suffer,
The world suffers.
It looks more disgusting than crunching on a cockroach.
Pawns, rooks, kings is the world today,
But I always wonder,
Which one am I?
I liked this poem, for one because it was your slam poem so I could picture it being said, but also, the overall meaning of the poem, the different types of people in the world, and then how it makes you think about which one you are. I also like how you used the chess pieces to symbolize those types of people.
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