New Game

by Harshita Das aged 14

One death, two deaths, and then three
Until death is just a number on the screen
No permanent penalties to any mistakes
Restart, repeat and reset; Nothing’s at stake

A safe place for my heart to race,
For me to reveal my over-perfectionist face
Sometimes, when I sit fuming at my hundredth save-file
I wish that life had a respawn button

The Poetry Zone

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