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Pirates! Take your sails back down!
The pirate paintbrush is in town!
So if you're feeling like a landlubber,
Don't sit down, do not blubber
A pirate paintbrush is what you should get,
It'll make you happy, and you won't get wet!
Search Krawk Island through and through,
Search until your face turns blue!
You'll find one some time, don't you worry,
It might be slow, you might get it in a hurry.
I also heard (could this be true?)
The Hidden Tower might have them, too!
The price, I'm sure, will not be low.
You might have to sell your toe.
But this could also be a rumour,
Like when they said Dr. Sloth had a tumour.
Well, anyway, I'll say "Ta-Ta."
I've got one already... HA HA!
He stood at the window
Away from the festivities
And he wondered
What it was like.
He had spent his life in an ivory tower
Away from everything.
How could he ever make friends?
The lonely Gelert
Never played outside the wall of his Neohome,
Never slipped onto a boat headed
For a day tour of Mystery Island,
Like all the other pets his age did.
And as they sat at the docks
Ready to go home,
And watched the sun sink over the horizon,
He watched the same sunset,
But it wasn't as beautiful,
Never had been,
Never would be,
Because he had to watch it
From the "safety" of his window.
No one understood.
They said "You're safer in there.
Your father's worried about you,
And your mother doesn't want you
Mixed with those lowly
You're better than them."
But he knew he wasn't.
Other pets would've loved it,
He hated being locked away.
But it was his life
And there was nothing he could do about it.
Or so he thought.
A Neopet's Frolic
Across distant Neopian fields there lay
The river bright and glistening but cold
Frigid I knew the water'd be, so I
Endeavor'd not to cross at length, still end
Did I knee-deep in mud, my feet benumb'd
Beslimed, betrayed, and angry I'd become
The object of my wrath stood on the bank
Grinning from ear to ear with Kacheek's smile
Off'ring his hand to help me to the sand
Thanking him I clamber'd towards the shore
Then planted myself in the muck and tug'd
To send us toppling, splashing in the stream
He shook off his paws and wrung out his ears
And he laugh'd until he was brought to tears.
Flying the Scorchio Around the place
Rushing and Moving, in a haste
Avoiding the rocks, Avoiding the cloud
Beating this game will make you proud
Collecting the bubbles
Avoiding the troubles
Obtaining the crystals
Dodging the missiles
Going for the highest score
Winning the game will no longer make you poor
Hitting the space bar, clicking the mouse
You will be so addicted,
You will never leave your house
Then you lose your bubble shield
You gain it again, and you are healed
The missile shoots your shield out
(It really wants to make you pout)
You collect 2 jewels and missed the last
But it's too late, you already passed
You lost your chance of getting it
Then you gain more bit by bit
When you reach the score
Of two thousand sixty-four,
You'll get tired, you'll get bored
You decide to leave the game
You think it's dull and you think it's lame
You think about buying the baby paint brush
But you think" What's the rush"
You go back and play Volcano Run
And you say" Surely this will be LOTS of fun!"
The waiting is over! The brush has arrived!
For swashbuckling pirates, a new paintbrush kind
With raggedy clothing,
And scarves on their heads,
Hooks for their hands, and wood for their legs!
They have horrible manners,
And speak as they chew!
They talk like real pirates,
And act like them too.
They wear their eye patches
And earrings with pride,
They spit, and they chew
With their mouths opened wide.
They burp like ship cannons
And say "Ahoy!!! Where's my food?"
They scratch their cabooses and fart,
(They're so rude!)
When their lootbags are empty,
And pockets are strapped,
They'll figure a way,
To get their cash back.
They solve secret clues,
And they find secret maps,
But how do they do it???
They're brainless as bats.
Oh what a mistake, the Neo-staff made
Releasing these pirates the same time as babes.
They'll hold them at ransom,
And steal all their grub.
But there's one thing in common,
Between pirates and bub's...
They both slurp their slushies
And both feed their clothes.
They both have teeth missing, 5 fingers, 5 toes.
But in a few cases that statement is un-true,
Because I know some pirates
Who are missing a few.
Babies and Pirates, an unusual mix!
But "Swashbuckling Babies", I'd love them to bits!
If only I knew how to make baby buccaneers...
They'd be so cute! With patches over their tears.
Total Poetry Pages : 1984
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