Chess is the game of life,
Theres black and theres white,
Good and evil
One can make a good move,
The other a bad
Determination is the key
People may call it a thinking game
People may be happy because there going so well
But that can change if they loose their queen
The pieces if they were alive
Would think they had free will
We can move where we like, they would say
But to us we know
That free will is not the case
There is a winner and a loser
Its already been decided
So would the chess pieces still play
If they knew all it was, was a game
That determination played no part
Thinking was not the key
No matter what happens the end has been decided
So the question is
Yes there is always a question at the end of every poem
Are we those chess pieces?
Do we really have free will?
Or has the end already been decided and we are just another chess game?













Comments
--
"I saw an insect learn to fly... now show me, now show me, now show me how to shine."
--
Smurfs are asexual
I was reading this poem again, and i was thinking, you said:
"So would the chess pieces still play
If they knew all it was, was a game"
Did they have a choice?
Do they have a choice to play?
Do they have a right to judge the players?
If the piece decided to attack another piece, it would think that attacking was it's own choice, but really the player is in control and the player moved him...
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