There once was a poet, demonic
Whose short, four-line poems were chronic.
‘Twas evening again
And the poet did pen,
To be contrary, this lim’rick ironic.
As the lightning cracked in the purple sky
And the cameras panned over my birth
My parents knew I was the guy
Who’d be destined to save the Earth.
So I was raised in the classic way
Of being a normal happy kid
Until, inevitably, bandits razed my town
Which, as expected, they inevitably did.
And so from the ashes a guardian rose
And took me to a school of hard knocks
Where I learned to be destiny’s hero
By killing rats with sticks and rocks.
And after cutscenes which showed me grow
I left the school to see the land.
My life’s tutorial now finished
My destiny could proceed as planned.
I started out slaying vermin,
Albeit on a grander scale.
I found gold left unclaimed on the ground
And used it to buy weapons and mail.
I learned to cast spells and fire a bow,
Though I never really did
Because the way to do so was complicated
And my life was controlled by a kid.
Eventually I was betrayed
And someone who I thought had died
Turned out to be the major villain
Who led the guys on the other side.
What should have been climactic
Turned quickly to a rout
Because somewhere I read a walkthrough
And I did what it talked about.
And so the banners fly again
And peasants chant my name.
I’m made the king of everything
But otherwise life’s the same.
My normal life took fifteen hours
Before I was the love of every bard,
But now my achievements dissapear
As fate clicks “new game, difficulty: hard.”
I bet that back in elder days,
When dragons roamed the sky
And virgins all got kidnapped
To be rescued by some guy
That said virgins played a game
Where, in a future land,
They were ordinary citizens
Who love they did demand
From virgins playing games
In which they acted like a knight
Rescuing imaginary virgins
Kidnapped by dragons. Am I right?
The time for meta poetry
Has come again it seems.
This blog, over the years,
Has become a thing of dreams.
That’s not to say it’s excellent
(Or even good, per se),
But that if life were like this blog
I’d be happy every day.
If consistency of talent
Were optional for work…
If people liked me purely
For my ability to be a jerk…
If things without a reason
At least would have a rhyme…
Yes, if life were like this blog
We would have a groovy time.
Amidst the inevitable collapsing
Of society in such a world
We would laugh and we would smile
As the universe unfurled.
Mediocrity would rule supreme
Were we to go that far,
And thus I’m moving to LA
To be a reality TV star.