Nobody can formulate a formula for success,
Without throwing me somewhere in the equation.
I would be queen were life a game of chess,
For every move I make, nobody dares question.
Who am I?
Even before I open my mouth to speak,
Truth scampers away, tail between its legs;
And the knees of justice the giant wobbles weak
That it falls face down, and for mercy it begs.
Who am I?
Whoever has more of me
Is payed a patient ear,
No matter how foolish they may be;
For people are puppets, I a puppeteer.
Who am I?
I’m sought after, day and night.
I can paint right wrong,
And adorn wrong till it looks right.
I can make the strong weak, and the weak strong.
Who am I?
When wielded with care,
I can bring heaven to earth.
When carried by a careless player,
I can make earth reek of death.
Who exactly am I?
I wrote this poem in response to a prompt on a Poetry WhatsApp group in which we were given the picture above to write a poem.
Here are my other poems:
