Poems from The Chessplayer
I love the sound of falling rain
Upon my bedroom windowpane
Once I had a frog
(Whom I accidentally dropped)
And to this very day
I don't know where the hell he hopped
Isn't it bizarre?
That it's possible to know what you want
But not what you are
There is a feeling we feel
That likes to call itself 'love'
To make us lower our guard
And say things that we don't mean
There once lived a king
Of integrity and renown
But he was growing old
And another would soon have his crown
So the king had to choose...