The Perfect Move

This is a deadly, superfluous unfair game,

I cannot say I’m not guilty myself to no give up.

We are a tiny little piece of this big puzzle,

Which no make sense to the vast majority.

Everyday we’re digging our own grave of misery,

Waking up with the same motivation

To be in the other side of the board.

Thinking we have might have the chance

to beat the system,

Sweating blood, drinking our tears questioning

How everything went wrong in the first place.

Laws, rules, and punishment are in place

To oppress players like me.

I’ve been playing this game since I have memory.

With all the odds against me, I’ve reached

the mastery of being five steps ahead,

Because my life depends in every move I do,

Every decision, action or word determine my future

Always changing, mutable and uncertain.

Every year feels more heavy and the game more elaborate.

Some us can see the lies behind the rules,

Some of us think if you are good enough and work harder,

the odds will be in your favor without notice that

those things not matter in this unpredictable game.

Only you can win if you think or meet the creator of the game.