Some say life's a monopoly game,
spread like a picnic to kill the grass,
assuring no winners save some ants,
until amid the fading rants,
none there are to punch one's pass
into the halls of fame.
The metaphor for life in this poem is
Aa monopoly game.
Bhalls of fame.
Csome ants.
Da picnic.
spread like a picnic to kill the grass,
assuring no winners save some ants,
until amid the fading rants,
none there are to punch one's pass
into the halls of fame.
The metaphor for life in this poem is
Aa monopoly game.
Bhalls of fame.
Csome ants.
Da picnic.