The Controller

It sits there staring, like a black panther
Ready to pounce,
When you pick it up,
It falls perfectly into your ready hands,
Waiting, anxiously for the game to start,
Pressing the button you’ve wanted to press all day,
You are opened to another world,
Fans screaming your name,
Walking onto the pitch, ready to do battle
Slowly, now and then
you are brought back by the vigorous,
Continuous clicking of buttons
Then, after the game has ended, you are done.
You put down the masterpiece,
And wish you could hold it in your hands again
Like an addictive drug,
The controller.