Poem I just made up when thinking about Herb p2p, the latest person to leave graal for college, and I thought about it and made up this little poem.
Every creator of worlds will know and fear,
That fated day of ends as it draws near,
When fantasy crumbles to the cruel, hard, truth,
When faded ink is their only existence's proof,
When free-time is something you can't afford,
You abandon realms visited only when bored,
When fictitious worlds get drowned by your life,
Your own creations and characters are frozen in strife,
The day that we abandon all quests and forget all sins,
That fateful day....that college begins.