I just found a poem I wrote years ago. Before you comment, please understand that this poem is bad. It’s supposed to be bad. I wrote it for a forum thread of bad poetry about gaming. Just thought I’d share for my gaming buddies.
“My Love of d20 Know No Limit”
You cannot fail me now,
Loyal and trusted polyhedron.
The bugbear’s dripping poleaxe felled the halfling thief,
and Simon’s cleric Cured my Serious Wounds–he can do no more today.
It’s up to me, the handsome noble elf,
Chaotic Good (as if you couldn’t guess),
to pierce these enemies of Good with arrows by the assload.
I’d like to stab one with an arrow, use the shaft
to shoot another foe, but Jerry (our DM) insists
I’d need to buy a special feat. He’s such a total fucktard.
No time for further thought–I draw–I aim–
O happy die! You rolled so high–I hit his eye! I watch him die!
Take THAT, you smelly humanoids! Teach you to settle caves
So near the Borderlands.
I’m off to quench my thirst with Mountain Dew
Whilst Carrie rolls a character anew.
She’ll likely make another halfling thief, just gath’ring treasure in the next room we explore.
Beyond that, caverns beckon us within.
Attack the darkness!–let the fight begin.