If you could tell how old I was
by the circles beneath my eyes,
Then it should be of no surprise.
...that I behave...
much younger than my age.
It is not like an enigma
My new resolve,
Is to not end this game play badly.
But, my name's not Milton Bradley.
My weakness is not a plaything.
On reality I lose my grip,
each time you sink my battle ship.
I pick up sticks,
But feel so sick.
Self respect, is not a pawn.
Can I be Queen?
Right hand, on green..
Yet my request seems unheard.
You still define my Scrabble word.
Do I have self control?
My analog seems frozen still.
"Finish Her" It's overkill.
Beer Pong for the sober.