First, I will post the overall rules, and then I will post the specifics about this week.
Original rules, as stated by Ubertuna:
It must fit the week's theme. It must be submitted by the deadline. It cannot have inappropriate language in it. It cannot be stolen (if you plagiarize, we will find you).
Also:
The poem must be created for this contest A user cannot win two weeks in a row (though everyone is welcome to submit every week!) Only one submission per user will be accepted
As we all know, the winner will recieve a merit, and their poem will be featured on the _Poetry_ page.
OK, on to this week's topic...Again, we are having a style instead of a theme. Also, this week we are having TWO WEEKS to do it, instead of the usual one. Why? Because this will be an EPIC poem. Or, rather, a parody of an epic poem. Generally, epic poetry is very long, and tells the serious story of a heroic figure. Well, this week, the epic figure is YOU! Write a long poem (I'll leave the definition of 'long' up to you, but give it a good go) about the heroic story of you! It can be silly, serious, whatever... just have fun with it. You have two weeks, so have a great time!
and I wonder what the answer could be, using all creativity inside of me. Yet no answer can be found, but I'm not sure my sanity is sound. Therefore any answer would be distorted, Ack! Your riddle keeps me thwarted. But after many many tries, I agree with parsat: fireflies.
Mokomonkey, though it's neat, This riddle-game is not complete. It needs a thread to call its own; The contest page is not its home. So move this contest there, I say, To preserve it for another day. Also, too, you have me gypped: Your stinking shoe smells like a crypt!
To talk in rhymes in every day speak What has been started early this week? These rhymes are neat, but oh so cheezy After reading such, I must say I feel queezy. But rhyme we must to hone our skills We dive into a new world of cheap thrills!
But seriously, we should focus more on submitting poems instead of speaking in rhymes as we speak casually (if that makes sence). That's my job when I pick the winners.
Upon the night stars, a brilliant show of lights has come Caught lying down in the snow sings death to some But the sirens sing of life today To shed tears of last depth today
Upon silver sheets and plasmic fluid stuck to arm A man, in vegetable, has had his harm And crimson waves of flustered scrubs Means death to some
But to sing in praise is to sing too early For this man will not awake But to take that plug, would surely be a piece of cake
A form of torture of unable flare Or without love, hate and even scare The lack of any trait fluidly, Is the lack of any ingenuity
Just say the words, and you will make it For this life we have is sacred And you will take it for granted Until you cannot man it
So sit down, and take that toast This man will no longer be comatose Because 6 feet under will truly mean That this man now, R.I.P
