| |
|
| |
| |
Ode to Picky
by Labrat
You came to me one day in a trade,
And told me how your old master played.
Your friendly smile, your winning laugh;
Kept me going when I needed a bath.
You held my hand while I dug for ore;
With your friend, excy, you found me lots more.
You made my fortune grow at a phenomemal rate;
More GC than I could use was on my plate.
One day as I mined, I forgot to take care,
And you broke on me; no hope for repair.
I cried and I wept feeling my loss,
When suddenly a messge appeared from my boss.
"Check your inventory, you may have a spare,"
The instructions I followed and I found you there.
Sparkly and gleaming, completely brand new;
My pickaxe was safe, I had a new you!
No pick could ever replace you in my heart,
But alas as time goes on I need to start.
Your fellow pick is balanced very well,
When I hit the silver ore it rings like a bell.
So, Picky, as I write these words thinking of you,
I know we'll see each other again, our love is true.
In the meantime, I'll have fun with another,
It may be your sister, your cousin or even your mother!
|
| |
|
|
|
