The bible tells me
I am a mere pawn
Puppet to the Hand

I  move when the hand moves me
I eat
When it decides I do
I grow to be queen
And become invincible
And that queen’s crushed
When the hand wants too

A pawn

Does this hand
That moves me
Know I have feelings

Does it have feelings?

Does this hand feel pain
Or laugh
Or cry
Does it mourn
A loved one

And if this hand wanted
To play a game of chess
Where only it wins
Couldn’t it have made
Plastic pawns
And not live bleeding ones?


© Hellen Masido

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