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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #1182711
young girl plays a game with her mother.
"Life is a game." she says.

I feel this conversation is too familiar;
that she is wrong, I do not say,
instead set up the board.

She continues, "Winning is dependent upon your
success."I want her to prove it, but remain
silent on the all too familiar topic.

She spins the wheel, moves her piece
two spaces, only to stop and wait.
She says" You have to be wealthy in the end."

I think she has been watching to much TV,
but continue to listen, as I move
my four spaces.

"Having children also increases your chances of winning." she says.
She is to young for that she tells me.

I want to tell her she is wrong, but this is
not the time.She collects her money
and moves again.

"And you have to get married, you don't
have a choice." she says. I tell her
to make her move she just nods.

As I attempt to make my next move
she tells me I have to take a card.
She tells me it is important to go to college.

I smile, at least she has learned something.
Then she tells me that a doctor is
the best thing to be.

I want to protest for the sake of her creativity,
I just move my piece instead."When you retire,
you should live in the big houses." she says.

I smile and wish it were true.
She claps her hands -
exclaims with glee "I win! I win!"

She starts to put the board away
then turns to me and says,
"Thank you for the game moma."

I give her a kiss, grateful it wasn't chess.
© Copyright 2006 siberi@n (michellehowsen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1182711-The-Game-of-Life