Chess

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Do you like chess?
I love it. But I don't play these days quite often.
For some reason, my passion for the game perished. I write now, instead.
Chess has 64 squares, let's say our life span is 64 years. We can play cautiously, making one good move on the chessboard which is our life, for a whole year. But where is the fun in that? It's getting way too sophisticated.
We overthink too much. I play here, you play there. Most of the chess openings and beginnings are memorized. We the people have made the game non-exciting.
We follow a pattern that makes me hate the game. I think the same rules apply to life.
No one is searching for HIS best move.
The move that will make you live 64 years in one. Everyone is watching the other player and copying his moves. No one is following his path and looking for his best move.
Who knows? Maybe I will start playing again.
After all, my best moves are yet to come.


Submitted: March 24, 2021

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