You take me to court, but not to be judged. Even though you use me to slam and smash, and such. In fact, I think violence is lame. Because, you know, love is my game.

If you kick me you are at the end of your road or journey. Time to push up daisies. Sleep the eternal slumber.

Sometimes I'm flicked, Sometimes I'm ground, Sometimes I'm saucy, I come prepped in tins, And am best served on toast

A flat plane of black and white, where fingers dance in rhythmic flight. Letters and symbols in neat array, guiding thoughts with every play.

Pull the door or push it wide, I always stay at its side.