here they come again,

mocking me, dissing me,

taking a jab, creeping onto me.

 

jealousy is a black and white game.

to black, white always seems like a weakling.

the sole purpose of black is to extend its callous ends,

to consume the white.

 

to white, this game is very old now.

white always places a deceiving shield,

for black to think it has the upper hand.

 

only in the eye of the beholder,

does one know which one is the real deal.

 

 

Note: This poem is written using the image prompt posted during hour 5.