Thinking back on the memories with my first cable connection,
T or CT, who would be my first selection.
Adjusting the settings for my Gateway Desktop hearing the gunfire pound,
I quickly adjust my sensitive waiting patiently for the next round.
To those beautiful nights we spent together sharing a mountain dew case,
never forgetting the first time I slipped in for my first Ace.
Growing up together you were always there for me,
able to unlock any door with your special key.
The first time I experienced a meme I was headed to pit,
there on the wall some gamer had plastered a giant clit.
When I just needed a friend or someone to talk to,
your head shots and flash bangs pulled me through,
this is why it hurts my heart to be writing you.
You have become someone I can longer trust,
as your skin lottery becomes an consensual thrust.
I could create my own skins an upload with encryption,
but instead you’ve given me a gambling addiction.
All that money and still no real cheater detection,
the least you could do is show me a little affection.
It’s time for me to cut you out of my life,
don’t blame me though you’re the one that handed me the knife.
I know some where out there I’ll be treated better,
I’d be lying though if I said I wasn’t crying writing this letter.
As the months go by something in the store catches my eyes,
I thank the Lord as it appears to be a blessing in disguise.
Taking a closer look some synth wave starts to play,
it’s a beautifully sculpted game made from creative clay.
As we breach the door bullets start to wiz and clang,
Taking cover only to realize I’m dead from some cheeky gamers wall bang.
You got me this time but I’ll be back for more,
with those creative curves we’ll be playing ’til about 4.
Political correctness is nothing less than thought control!
(Every time you share this post a feminist shaves her head and a statist gets arrested.)