The chess composition

I’m a cherry on the house

branching out across the spheres

a no mans land of riddles

sharpening tender tears,

in this world I see the plenty

its a monster of a whale

dowsing all in winded glitter

through a torn and tattered sail,

children moving in and out

from one door to the next

spilling over from one to another

at the poisons of seeping text,

adults are afraid to move

so the board is standing still

with the promise of a better world

its check mate for the kill.

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