Note: The essence of this poem is “agree to disagree.” It’s the kind of relationship I have with my father, whom I love dearly.
Game poised for a stalemate
Where’s your check mate, son?
Think I don’t recognise the eyes
Beneath the ugly man bun?
We’ve been here for two hours
Pawn to E4 now E5
You took my rooks and bishops
I hold your queen and knights.
But neither of us can call time
We both still crave the win
Have neither of us realised
True victory is but within?
Sixty six are my years now counted
Thirty six is your cosmic debt
Even through that smug composure
You’ll likely lose this bet.
Reality isn’t played out on a board
It’s in how we’ve used our time
You went your way, monsieur
And I? I surely went mine.
Yes you found youth’s fountain
And drank from the purest spring
No decision thus failed you
Like clear pearls on a gold string.
The path I chose is murky
No pearls adorn my neck
Mistakes abound a plenty
On this long and wayward trek.
Yet here we are united
Over this rancid game of chess
Strangers not, nor friends
Each striving to come off best.
And now at last I concede
There will be no winner hence
I’ll take your leave and go my way
Accept these, my tuppence.
Just Me Lakhani 