So I start as a level three
Now what should I be?
I could be a warrior, archer, or a mage
Confusing, don’t you see?
After thinking, I go blind with rage!
A few days later, I decide to be pure range
Its the way to go, i’ll own those noobs
So I train it higher and higher, some people call it strange
But all I say is, you’re all just fat choobs!
The levels go by, one after one
But until im 99, my work is not done
It takes many days, months, even years
When I’m done, i’ll pwn all my peers
I’ll make them all cry and flee and run
Now I’ve met someone with my own talent
Evenly matched it would appear
As we fight, he appears quite gallant
But he fights using such a nubby spear
I started to lag!
When I got back on, all the noobs were laughing
So I thought to myself, “what a drag”
I lost all my cool stuff, my phat and red mask
Now I need some staffing
Still, the guy who killed me was a total F*G
He wouldn’t give me my stuff back when I asked
I’ve learned my lesson,
Never fight gay people
Jk, im just messin’
Well so now I need to meet some businesspeople
They’ll help me get my money back
Oh btw, my names Jack
Well now that I’m broke, I’m back where I began
Thinking of what I should do
Being a pure got kinda lame, so I’ll get my def up and join clan
FYI, this story ain’t true
Now help me by spreading this poem