The Tetris doesn't belong to me. If it did, I would own millions of mindless slaves.
Tetris
Tetris. Play. Lose. Repeat. An obsession.
Lots don't realize they're hooked till it's too late.
Sleepless nights, full of caffeine and sugar
Days are consumed by the colourful blocks.
Left. Right. Flipped. Must get the places filled in.
Cries of despair. The row has one block open
And the next one can't be flipped to fit it.
"Restart". That failure now won't count for you.
It's been three days and ten restarts later.
Finally. Level TEN! Blocks start to blur.
Start's pressed, and naps are taken, it can't hurt.
Eating can come later…just one more round!
The nightmare starts. You're at the last level.
The blocks are coming faster and faster.
You dodge, hoping the row will disappear.
The last block crushes you as you awake.
Sighs and saves are done. There'll be no Tetris.
Life goes on, while it slowly gathers dust,
Until the nightmares go, you start to crave.
One more level. That will be it. No more.
You're hooked once again. You cannot stop now.
The phone rings. The machine can get it, right?
The level is almost done, you can't stop
And can't be distracted or you may lose.
It's been a month since the intervention.
Family and friends took the game away,
And you freaked, begging them to return it.
You've slowly come back to reality.
The years pass and you haven't touched the game.
Yet, you realize that you still play the game.
It takes you three tries to put away cans.
Those colourful blocks still control you now.
You start to play once again in secret.
It's not as bad as before. You can stop
And get on with your life. You don't crave it.
The blocks are fitting all together now.
In your job, you pack things like in Tetris.
In relationships, you reach for "Restart".
It's not there, so you simply turn it "off".
Oh, why can't ones life be more like Tetris?