Friday, November 21, 2014

Poetry Explosion Mania-4

And next on our list... A poem about complaining! . . . about a certain online game in particular.
Enjoy, and beware the wild north!

League of Legends
Kell Inkston
Let’s play a game online;
Where there is always an I in team,
Where kills take place over skills,
Where working together means to help tie the noose,
Where the inhibitor is always threatened,
And theirs is always safe
Where all of your friends are your enemies,
And all your enemies are natural disasters,
To be fled from, not fought against.

You and your four comrades,
Against the national champions.
Out of all the animals in the zoo,
You get to pick any one you want.

Make your choice:
Will you go in solo, and be matched with monkeys,
Or invite some sloths you know
Either way, the result is the same:
Your inhibitor has been destroyed!-
You have been slain!-
Did you stay in your lane?
Your fault.
Did you leave your lane?
Your fault.
Out of the ten people in the game at the moment,
You are the one that is called out by that 16 year old Brazilian.
Can we just be competitive in our minds-
With tactics, timing, teamwork,
Rather than in our hearts-
With egos, self-security and penis comparisons?

“IT’S A GAME YOU BITCH! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO WIN!”
It’s a game, you poor, random person from across the waves. You’re supposed to have fun.

I long await the day, when M.O.B.A. will stand for:
Multiplayer Online Battle Arena, as it should, rather than

Multitudes of Babies Always.