I’ve bought myself a zugzwang now
At price of newfound, age-old friend.
No matter how I make a move,
I will be worse off in the end.
Do I resign? Or, do I play
In hopes that some day luck will turn?
For if it doesn’t, I am heading
To a fatal crash-and-burn.
My body’s screaming, “End it now!”
My mind is pleading, “Play it through!”
But when I ask which move to play
It’s clear that I’ve got no clue.
“You love the drama, don’t you, son?”
I hear his flowered portrait sigh.
“I have to be the man I am,”
I whisper as I pass him by.