You made the first move with your pawn; I responded in kind.
Your knights moved closer to my queen,
I sent bishops to shield her.
You were set to conquer with your rooks — straightforward and bold.
I tried to slow your pace,
Opposing your pieces face-to-face.
You made me think I was winning
By exposing your king.
Caught off guard,
You declared: checkmate.
Two more moves, and I almost had the game.
But you made me love you first —
Was it my defeat,
Or are you my prize for losing?
— Written by Jonah Chipeco | January 16, 2012
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