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Trading Post Blues
I'd like to buy your items, please,
In ones and twos and even threes.
Check the Shop Wizard, no help there
Are you going to tell me you don't care
What I offer on your Trading Post lot?
How can I, when there is not
A single indication of what you want
Tell me! Please! What do you want?
Your wish list reads a boring "none"
And I know, alas, before I'm done
I'll see eleventy-thousand more
Without wish lists -- what a bore!
I just want to buy your paint brush.
Give me a price -- is that too much
To ask for? Tell me: what do you want?
Tell me! Please! What do you want?
I'd even give you NP for your junk,
But instead, I'm all in a funk
Because you refuse to price your wares.
I know that no one really cares,
But still I ask and still I plead
For before I offer I really do need
To know what to bid, know what you want.
Tell me! Please! What do you want?
Anxious Neopets await the new,
Very impatient become more than the few.
Allowances of the thousands thrown around,
Temptation keeping them bound.
Attacking opponents day and night,
Realizing their goal in sight.
Crossing paths of Neofriends,
Optimism rises of trust as it bends.
Learning not for the best,
Leaving the honor of their crest.
Etching away the weak,
Corrupting the weary.
Trailed by the abandon of pets,
Of distinct failure in the rest.
Reeling in the cash no more,
Starved of power, becomes a sore.
I sidle over and sit down.
There's apprehension in the air.
A Draik eyes me with hostility,
With a frostily polite stare.
Taking my time, my hand wanders,
"What are ye waiting for?" cries the Draik
His eyes of fire are watching me,
My neck is starting to ache.
Should I move those stones?
Should I move these?
The Draik is so intimidating,
He made jelly of my knees!
What if I lose? I worry,
I shake as my opponent takes his turn.
When he leans over I feel his fiery breath,
And my throat begins to burn.
The room is dim and so is my mind,
It feels slow anyway.
I can sense the game will end soon.
Oh, why did I choose to play?
I must've been crazy, I think,
As I slowly close my eyes.
I move my final Meristones,
And lo and behold! Shock and surprise!
I've won the game of Meristones!
And look! I'm still sane!
That Draik bows down to me! What an honour!
Maybe I should play again...
Confessions of a Neopian Pack Rat
When my SDB reached one hundred or two,
I was diagnosed; there was nothing to do.
I got that new title, a rare one at that,
I reached the ranks of a Neopian "Pack Rat".
And then as I thought, it all sounded right,
My SDB did brim with peaburger delights.
I used to think hoading those Feepits was vital,
And those fifteen Spyders justified my title.
I have a Snowbunny who's hiding from sight,
Something to do with the complete lack of light.
She lives off croutons and stuffing from plushies,
I'm starting to wonder how healthy that'd be...
Try to imagine this terrible smell,
Rot makes these item types quite hard to tell.
My chocolate negg feels as hard as wood,
Heck, this rotten berry starts to look good.
So my SDB teems with cheap items galore!
It's becoming quite tricky to close the steel door.
What do I get from hoarding like the best?
Another avatar, to hoard with the rest.
Spoils of War
As they always say
History repeats itself
And once again it has.
A war was brewing,
But who could foresee
The events about to pass.
We all knew a peace treaty signed
With Darigan could not last,
But Meridell had to move on
And Skarl gave reign to Lord Kass.
Revenge began to cast a dark shadow
Down upon the kingdom's walls.
The people of Meridell prospered,
Ignorant of what was about to fall.
A deviant plan quickly unfolded
And there seemed to be so much at risk.
It started with a court dancer
That persuaded the good people
With a strange glare and a kiss.
While the king and his people were mesmerized,
Darigan soldiers began to invade.
The only thing holding them
Off in the countryside
Was a small, eager brigade.
Many villagers tried to fight them off
With nothing but pitchforks in their hands.
The tide finally turned
When Skarl awoke to send help;
A fleet of Turtum war wagons.
Meridell's rampaging knights
Kicked the minions back on their heel.
And what remained of Kass's army
Retreated up to The Citadel.
The final stand finally took place
In a place that was high above.
The weeks of battle ended majestically,
The only thing missing was a dove.
King Skarl was giving orders in
The war room when he heard the news.
Ever since he defeated Lord Darigan
He knew they couldn't lose.
Then Skarl looked at all the
Wrecked buildings Kass's army left behind.
His usual grumpiness was overcome
With a depressed feeling inside.
The farms were covered
With Darigan weaponry
Lying amongst upturned roots.
But to a keen eye all that was left
Was lots and lots of loot.
Skarl began to voice his opinion
And thousands gathered
To see what he had to say.
He spoke of bravery,
He spoke of achievement,
He spoke till there was
Nothing left to convey.
The people tried to put up false hope
To cover up their loss and sorrow.
The king exclaimed, "Don't fret
Everything will be better by tomorrow!!"
The crowd all sneered, "How can this be?"
Hoping the king would say more.
Skarl gave a smile and shouted,
"Bring me all the spoils of war!!!"
Total Poetry Pages : 2008
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