Game Over [A poem for gamers, by a gamer]

Jonsus

 

As a child, I liked games that were hard. 

Marbles and Pogs in the schoolyard,

till I installed a new videocard in 

my computer and lost myself.



Found a copy of the first Diablo game

on some store shelf and discovered 

a place that needed me.



(Such an odd feeling)



I could be someone else in a fantasy

world where I only got stronger the

better and longer I played, always 

saved the day, always

got the girl.



I was a hero.



(Such an odd feeling)



But games, they aren't real, and my 

parents would say that I'd feel my 

life slipping away as I sat there 

in front of a screen every day

and night, wind up a failure.



I've always known they were right

but there's this odd freedom I

find in fighting hordes of

goblins and evil

planar beings.



As if you're worth something when a beaming

NPC gives you a quest reward, like you 

can really carve a place for yourself 

in that world with nothing but your 

will and a sword, and you're 

actually appreciated.



(Such an odd feeling)



So gaming's my hobby, my pass-time, takes 

up each spare dime I've got, because it

distracts and entertains me a lot more 

than everything else.



Helps me forget myself and the way that I

cant connect to others like I do with

a mere click of the mouse when I

log on and check my 

friends-list.



Ingame, those on it are happy to see me online, say 

I've been missed, and always have the time to 

tell me so, ask me to go on an epic quest or 

wrest an item of power from some glowering 

demon in a burning ruined tower.



Even when its a dungeon-run I've already done

it's a hell of a lot more fun than logging

off and seeing everyone else is happy.



(Such an odd feeling)



So what do you expect me to do when it's like

the virtual world holds more appeal and 

feels more real than "Fighting

the good fight" and "Doing

something with my life".



It seems so right despite how my family would 

tell me I'm wasting my time sitting in front 

of "Those Stupid Games" but ultimately 

it's all the same because I see that 

none of this really matters.



They're lost in their lives while I'm

replacing my character's tattered

armor with new steel, and what's

real to them isn't that

consequential.



Your new job is like my new level, it doesn't 

really count, so you've got a new car, 

check out my epic mount, this shit's 

all the same, your life, my game, 

we're all gonna die eventually.



(Such an odd feeling)



Our mortality makes everything pointless.

We're all playing in Hardcore Mode, one 

life is all you get, and when you die, 

nothing really changes, the game 

won't reset, so the fact that 

this makes me happy is all 

that means anything.



I've got no regrets.



Real Life's so miserable, with its always

yearning for more, trying to get a hold

of some kind of meaning, push your

way through the trapdoor in this

glass ceiling over our heads. 



For this, you break your hearts? 

You endure the demeaning? 

You drown in roaring 

seas of debt?



I don't need or want the goals you've set

for me, they're just dust and air, and 

I see the hypocrisy of you standing 

there telling me how I'm 

"Wasting my time".



In the end, its mine to waste as I please.

So give me a working computer,

a solid connection, and

watch as I ease myself

into worlds you've

never known and

find freedom.

FlipTheFrog

Hehe, nice

I love poetry but honestly, this would have been the last place I would have expected it, haha

Dragonantis

Haha this was cool, nice job, hoping to see some more.

EDIT: Idea! why not try narate this on a youtube video XD