I am a pawn,
Moved for the betterment of one player
And the demise of another.

I am a piranha,
Rarely seen
With teeth to maim all those surrounding
And the few above.

I am a prawn,
Sometimes incorporated in movies
As other-worldly,
Nevertheless grotesque.

I am a painting,
Slowly constructed,
A final product
Up for opinion by others and others only.

I am a pedestrian,
Moving without assistance,
Speaking on my terms,
At the end of a street.

I am the panic button,
Rushing, riveted,
Unable to calm myself
Until silenced.

I am a powder brush,
Clearing up your insecurities,
Slowly wasting my bristles,
Inevitably recycled fabric.

I am panting
For the air
I grasp.

I am still panting.

I am paranoid,
Not of you,
Nor the future,
But of possessions.

I am possessed
By nostalgia

By a pawn
I moved too soon.


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