DeletedUser44027
Guest
Well, as much bashing as I do, I really am quite fond of MRAs. After all, at one point most of us were in one, we just didn't realise how bad it was at the time. So: an ode to New World, the first MRA of Eubea, and certainly not the last.
When new worlds ah-open, we all feel some hope,
That we'll get real accomplished, on some sort of scope.
Some want the points, others BP,
But some, my dear friend, don't just say "me me!"
It's not that they care for others, what a jest,
No, teamwork's in only the best of the best.
They want to be known, to be heard, to have pride,
And to here, my young ones, the point has arrived.
They found an alliance- what fun, what galore!
They think: I'm the leader, great things are in store.
These downtrodden, poor, and ignorant sots,
Look on grep-intel, they've not got two dots!
They think they can make an alliance of skill,
But really, for veterans, it's just a kill!
These n00bs, they make a large M R dot A,
And now, my characters come into play:
New World, an alliance, with more invites than brain,
When looking at them, I can only say: "Pain!"
They tried to keep up, but then they were found,
When good C4's visits were coming around.
The map, oh great Pushtys*, was horrid to see,
Why they're spread all about- PLEASE JUST STAY IN ONE SEA!
And the interview came- well, we found quite lot,
The leader, it seems, is an ignorant sot!
He said very little, but from which I could tell,
A n00b he was, surely, as clear as a bell!
So now I will write, with great sadness indeed,
The tragic dear end, of our New World, with speed!
They're destined to fail, no chances they've got.
And all my good luck, to that poor little sot.
*an exclamatory term I invented so as not to offend anyone.
I'll admit, this did come out a little critiquing, but I'm not much of a poet. Plus, it only comes out well if you speak it right. Which you probably won't. But in any case, I felt should be a PnP, because that's what it is, even though that's not what it was originally meant as. Also, sot isn't particularly offensive where I come from, so please, don't take much offense.
When new worlds ah-open, we all feel some hope,
That we'll get real accomplished, on some sort of scope.
Some want the points, others BP,
But some, my dear friend, don't just say "me me!"
It's not that they care for others, what a jest,
No, teamwork's in only the best of the best.
They want to be known, to be heard, to have pride,
And to here, my young ones, the point has arrived.
They found an alliance- what fun, what galore!
They think: I'm the leader, great things are in store.
These downtrodden, poor, and ignorant sots,
Look on grep-intel, they've not got two dots!
They think they can make an alliance of skill,
But really, for veterans, it's just a kill!
These n00bs, they make a large M R dot A,
And now, my characters come into play:
New World, an alliance, with more invites than brain,
When looking at them, I can only say: "Pain!"
They tried to keep up, but then they were found,
When good C4's visits were coming around.
The map, oh great Pushtys*, was horrid to see,
Why they're spread all about- PLEASE JUST STAY IN ONE SEA!
And the interview came- well, we found quite lot,
The leader, it seems, is an ignorant sot!
He said very little, but from which I could tell,
A n00b he was, surely, as clear as a bell!
So now I will write, with great sadness indeed,
The tragic dear end, of our New World, with speed!
They're destined to fail, no chances they've got.
And all my good luck, to that poor little sot.
*an exclamatory term I invented so as not to offend anyone.
I'll admit, this did come out a little critiquing, but I'm not much of a poet. Plus, it only comes out well if you speak it right. Which you probably won't. But in any case, I felt should be a PnP, because that's what it is, even though that's not what it was originally meant as. Also, sot isn't particularly offensive where I come from, so please, don't take much offense.
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