Tunnel Vision, the Game
You request him to travel to distant lands
on a quest to conquer the enemy.
A like-minded platoon battles beside him,
helping him achieve an ultimate defeat.
You keep him sheltered from tough weather
with electric lights, a warm balm on stormy nights.
You allow him to rest his work-worn feet,
and lend shade to summer's sweltering heat.
You give him currency in gold, and nourishment
to revive his life with virtual healing.
His energy pours into self-gratification,
chasing flashing lights and curvaceous shapes.
A natural born warrior, his instincts are achieved.
His guys need him, and he seems as Captain.
The adrenaline of the chase is his maiden.
The plot thickens, challenge expands, saga continues.
His self-image is tough, but his muscles atrophy.
His belly swells closer to the screen.
His shoulders point toward their goal.
His carpal tunnel narrows from "shooting."
Various wrappers stack below his chair.
Paper plates replace dirty dishes.
Neglected laundry mops the bathroom floor.
He strives to reach a high level of achievement.
Daily late-night brigades and early morning battles
rattle in his dreams, realistic combat scenes.
The game goes by another name, but by definition,
it may as well be called "Tunnel Vision."
5/25/18
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
