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You play the game,
you know the rules
and you want the prize.
Your lips tell me
I am the ghost of past seasons.
But check again, I am real.
Couldnít you tell?
Always have been.
See my hands? Empty.
See my heart? Bleeding.
Youíve read the rules, my rules.
Theyíve been out there,
on the sleeve, in the book,
on the page, hidden in plain sight.
I wrote the rules.
And yes, the game has changed,
the rules, bent and broken.
But I am the same,
though time has seen fit
to burn its mark on me.
And yes, I tell my self
that I wont, I cant,
I mustnít play this game.
But I see the prize,
the glory that goes,
the riot of the victor.
I've played this game before,
learned its rules with bitter wages
and marked the field
with spent fragments of my heart.
The look in your eyes, clear
that the rules, the game,
are beyond me now.
You donít have to say it.
I know it. I know you.
I sit on the sidelines
a watcher, nothing more.
The harmless spectator.
But you are wrong.
Hard to believe, I know
You are wrong.
Let me tell you why.
You're playing by my rules
I'm not in the game,
I am the game, I am the prize.
So tell me, now that you know,
just how badly you want to win?


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Comments

The following comments are for "The Game"
by BMartinez

Games
BMartinez, I am so happy to read you here again. You play the game well, especially since you are the game. Your words always find their way home. Thank you for sharing.

Nae ;0)

( Posted by: nae411 [Member] On: December 9, 2005 )





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