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So what's all this noise,
About our boy Roy,
Who thought he could love 'em and leave 'em,
He's just an old hack,
Who played in the sack,
You'd think it was some kind of treason.
It's time we went home,
And left him alone,
For soon he will settle and marry,
The gals will rebound,
With someone renowned,
Or fall for some Tom, Dick or Harry.
The gauntlet's been thrown,
By someone well known,
There's no going back on it now,
But we will get through,
By someone like you,
This story will finish somehow.
I'm glad you liked this story enough to continue it, Amanda
There will never be an end to the battle,
it has come down to an all out war.
Attacked from both sides by opposition
they don't know what is in store.
My sword may be made of rubber,
but there is still ink in my pen.
The battle is growing in numbers,
all will have victories in the end.
There will be no looses in the battle,
except those that choose not to read.
Because all the ink laid on paper,
builds friendships that we all need.
So take back your flag of surrender,
and put some of your ink on the page.
A battle of wit and style,
has become all the new rage!
on-guard my fellow poets.
Join the battle if you dare.
Pick up some pen and paper,
and let us know you're out there!
You don't have to write about Roy,
or Heather in all of her fame.
Just try to enter the fun,
and throw a piece into the game!
Welcome !
