Game Poem by John Prophet

# Game

We
who walk
this world,
who are
now alive.
Trapped!
We are
trapped.
Trapped in
ourselves,
trapped on
this rock.
We live,
we think,
we die.
What to do?
What do
we do while
we're here?
Trapped in
our existence.
Born the
way we are.
Ensconced
in our shell.
Born where
we were.
Trapped on
a rock in
a limitless
void.
What's the point?
Maybe none.
Maybe everything.
What to do?
Tossed into
existence.
All things
known lost.
Lost to
infinity.
One stop
in many.
Rules to
the game.
Good
verses
evil.
Once played,
moving on
to the next.