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gently caress it, I'm done. Let this be a lesson to us all.supermikhail posted:a poem featuring my vision of the late Thunderdome MMXII. The Ballad of the Challenger 371 words Three slav'ring heads the creature had that staggered forth to greet me; And though I knew it only meant to judge me, not to eat me, I felt a wave of panic wash throughout my timid body – For though I'd laboured through the night my poetry was shoddy. I knew that surge of primal fear, that heralds one's demise; And yet I struggled onward, for to vindicate my lies. I'm in, I'd said, I'm down for this, you've lessons, I'm to learn them – But one glance at my writings, and I yearned inside to burn them. The creature knew it – this I sensed from 'neath its wrathful glares; The eyes of all three heads were turned to scrutinise my wares. And now its dread mouths opened, and let out a slew of scorn, That did, though just, diminish me to that which I'd been born – An infant! Just a suckling babe, all withered on the teat, Not capable by half, it seemed, of standing on its feet; And all around, the jeering calls of others in that Dome, Did flood me with desirousness to lock myself at home And curl into a little ball beside my TV set, And lose myself in pabulum, that I might soon forget Those aspirations that had called me to the written word, Instead to lumber on through life an illiterate turd. Alas, it was too late for this. My efforts were exposed; that dread Judge laid its tentacle upon my stinking prose, And tearing, as an octopus might shuck a barnacle, The beast excoriated me: 'A try-hard, and a fool.' I wept, though no emoticon could justly represent The depth of sorrow that I felt – but lo, the monster went To criticise the next poster, whose prose, I knew, was worse! My terror dissipated like some ineffectual curse, And sighing with relief I sank into my writer's chair; The Thunderdome Chimaera was reputed to be fair. I could relax – I ate and slept, and went about my life, But niggling doubts kept at me, always twisting, like a knife. Before too long, I'd logged back in, myself to reassure; Imagine, then my horror – 'neath my name – the SHAME-ATAR! STONE OF MADNESS fucked around with this message at 11:26 on Jan 10, 2013 |
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