Then just let me live long enough to
Recover from the constant anxiety
Of witnessing the daily chess game;
The pawns are our lives, the players --
Those powerful wounded egos
Who have lost touch with people who
Cook their own dinners, wash dishes,
Make their own beds, wash their clothes
And even mend their socks . . .
Then, I pray, let me outlive my pissed shadow.
I'm really worried
About my friends who are even angrier and
More exhausted than me, who are raising
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