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Laura Mo

Grade: 11

Solon High School

Instructor: Nanci Bush

The People Game

Poetry

The People Game

i. tradition They open the cardboard box Laughing, Giggling, Eager to finally reunite. They unpack, And the crinkled bags Come out of the tattered box The corner torn From when the blonde boy's dog Had globbered up the corner. The silver creatures are lined up Along the dark, timber floor One by one, facing the group.

It's a comfy day, At least on the inside. The fire is crackling, The boys unaware Of the anticipating stares upon them. Pieces are fumbling, Papers are rustling, Cards are falling. Those same sets of eyes From the silver statues Still peer at them Yet to look away. Two look with eager Two look with fondness Two look with confidence And one looks with despair.

Once again, The lengthy manual comes up Or 'the ginormous looking brochure' As the boys call it. It's shoved in each others' faces With smiles tossed around. After the first few steps Are read aloud To reignite Innocent flames, The game begins.

Oliver, one said, which one do you want?
He pointed
His chubby little fingers,
To the gleaming display
Of the many little creatures,
Landing on the one he always picks.
A stylish, blinding, cat
Rocking sunglasses in a mustang.
The other five
Correspondingly do the same
Picking their regulars,
Leaving the final figurine
Outcast in his archaic shelter.

He holds a cane
Slightly bowed
With his tophat lifted.
In his suit's pocket square
Is a rich, silver hyacinth
Yet it looks wilted.
With eyes of dejection,
He looks at friends often
Yet they spare him no glance.
He knows he is made of metal
Pewter, they named it
Yet he doesn't feel any worth.
But he's used to it.

ii. blossom
When the minute hand
made half a turn,
One of the kids -
Ian was his name -
Looked back.
Hey,
Why don't we ever use Mr. Cane?
The other boys look at each other,
Shrugging dismissively.
One even says,
He just looks old.
Another adds,
And lame.
The dog owner chimes,*
Who would want him?
Look at the rest of them.
Ian blinks in confusion
before grabbing the silver man.
Well, he looks lonely.
So I'm going to use two.
The other boys perk up, protesting,
That's not fair!
Now I want Mr. Cane!
And the senile man's
Hyacinth and solitude
Bloomed into something more.