Sunday, October 03, 2010

Paper Charge

Crumbled paper on the ground,
Mountain heaps of notes unfound,
I wrestle with the problem beast,
The bounty is a paper piece.

There is terror in the air,
Numbers weave and letters flare.
Figures square up to surround,
But I am rooted to the ground.

All I wanted was to play,
My silly games of point-and-slay.
But champion fingers help me not,
'Gainst problems of a diff'rent sort.

I bite my tongue and grit my teeth,
The clan halls call for midnight shift,
But the blast'd figures just won't budge,
I send Pudge into the paper charge.