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Pawn

All the world said to me I was naught but a pawn
That was hanged between index and ring
But from all of my dreams I still woke with a yawn
And believed I could make myself king

Then when after a stroke that had earned me some rank
I was told I could now be a knight
I was told, though my place was still humble and frank,
At least now I could enter the fight

Then when more social place did I earn through my deeds
It was said I could then be a rook
I looked down at myself and repeated the creeds
That I’d found in a chess player’s book

By the end of the game, though the battle was done,
I now king, though my army was gone,
I turned ‘round and in shock, for I thought I had won,
I faced mate by a servile pawn.


This poem communicates what can happen when we strive to earn acceptance from others through social standing.
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