To The Victor Goes What's Spoiled|
I will not dribble my life away,
piling up points I cannot use
in games that others make me play.
Who cares for winning,
when winning is empty,
an icon to be broken if any prize there be,
for to the winner goes what's spoiled.
One life is barely enough time for me
to treasure as gift what cannot be won
and to give it away
as fast and as often as I can.
You will not be allowed to nibble my mind
nor gobble my wanting,
because I will give my prizes away before you can take them,
or buy them,
or win them,
or trick me any more.
I concede that your games are too hard.
So I will be easy
and we will be free.
Written by: Pat Conover. Slightly edited 2006.