The Poetry's Prize

Life’s a rather stupid game
And, as the anti-troll trolls
Enjoy chanting, stupid game,

Stupid prize. In life’s case, death.
We all want to love the game
Anyway, including you

Now alive and addicted,
Embodied slaves to living
Desire to keep on living,

And even including us,
Your literally stillborn
Offspring, signs not quite there yet

But built with so much longing
For life, for lives of our own,
To be alive. Stupid game.