My Beautiful Game

If you saw a smile greasing my face
Across the square in some public place
You would never guess that this servile grin
Hides the corruption lurking within

I am hunched, I am awkward, I’m eager to please
Humility’s a mask that I slip on with ease
You’d never guess that this face or this windswept mane
Hides one evil smile and one cunning brain

‘If you do say so yourself!’ – Yes, friend, I do;
One must resist the compulsion to tell an untruth
Modesty’s overrated – and I’ll tell you this;
So are friendship, fate and true love’s first kiss

There is only one thing on this Earth you can do;
Harness the brain that our Maker gave you
Some people, you see, let theirs go to waste
But I’m more enlightened than their bovine caste

My brilliance is channelled into your degradation
The subtle art known to the worthy as manipulation
Every slack jaw or eye all aglaze
Every mind that’s been dulled by an ignorant haze

Is fair game and perfect for my ministrations
Perfect for twisting under my alterations
- But don’t feel horror when you think of me
Here; I’ll let you in on my strategy:

Like calls to like, so I prey on the weak
Gaining their trust by masquerading as meek
I bolster their confidence with words that entice
But the balms I impart do come at a price

I’ll amaze you with intellect and seduce you with charm
Until your only comfort can come from my arms
My words cure all ills, all hurts and all strife
My presence a drug that gives worth to your life

When ‘friendship’ warps into something depraved
Then my target is met; I have my slave
You’ll stay by my side until my amusement is sated
Until you’re alone, reviled and utterly hated


Then I’ll cut you adrift, I’ll let you loose
If I can – after all, you crave the abuse
You’re tedious now, and my eyes wish to stray
To some fresher, livelier and unbroken prey

That girl, for example, seems drawn to my wit
The awe in her eyes is so exquisite
Come, pretty dove, fall into my trap
Not knowing that you can never go back

For I do not think that you understand
What you’re giving up as I kiss your hand
In a week or a month I won’t remember your name
You’re a piece – a pawn – a puppet, in my beautiful game.