Poem: The End of the Game

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All the chairs are empty
There’s quiet in the room
The game we played is over
Ended far too soon
Remind me not of victory
Nor agony of defeat
Neither charging forward
Nor cowering in retreat
There is only trickling
And lonely memory
Of a game we had once played
Now distant past to me
I sit here not the winner
Yet I have not lost the game
Win or lose, it’s all a draw
An empty table, just the same

©2013 James Takeo

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