Chess as a Model of Social Justice, or Why I’m a Stay-at-home Pawn

Some are born as Queens or Kings.

Some are born as other things.

But be you bishop, rook, or knight,

At least you’re not a pawn. Am I right?

And if, unluckily, you are a pawn

You’d best just keep on keeping on.

You’ll reach a spot where life treats you fair.

(Or, more likely, you’ll get murdered on your way there).

And if you reach that special place,

A queen or rook you may replace,

Where you are but some king’s conquest

Or else called “castle,” despite your protest.

Or perhaps you’re promoted to a knight

And never again can you move quite right.

You could be a bishop, those stoic blokes

And victims of off-color  jokes.

Only one can be the king,

The chosen one, or another such thing.

So if you’re a pawn, your best bet

Is to stay still in the corner with no regret.

The happiest piece, the jolliest lord

Of the 64-square light and dark colored board

Is the piece that stays safe at home.

That’s why I no longer roam.

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