CHECKMATE

No more will I seek love from war
or expect peace from my enemies
No longer will I play the game
of fetch and carry

Nor shall I bend or my branches break
like a weary tree in a raging storm
and when the guns fire hostility
why should I still grant affection?

I am tired of this game that they insist upon
where my heart and soul are the chess pieces
on the chequered board
and I am expected to play the knight

I tell you that in this grey, grey world
my blood still runs red and fluid
but my veins swell and fill with tar
and my anger sullies the sunlight

When I speak the words
my voice is now silent
And may lips may smile
but my eyes tell no lies.