The gamer

ANGER 
Is fighting a war you can’t possibly win
Respawn, respawn, respawn 
God this is becoming a bore 
How many times have those controls hit the door ?
You’re looking for that well placed shot 
You look at the scoreboard, thinking got to be top
You sneak and you hide and camp to be top dog 
Sneakily hiding behind computer animated logs 
Your engrossed in your game so much so 
It’s almost as though you can feel the snow 
The sense of immersion is immense 
From the smoky scented ash that drift in the breeze 
To the way the pollen from trees make you sneeze 
The part that angers me most is when I’ve run halfway across the map 
Only to be took out by some camping twat!
That’s when I’m angry most of all 
As back to the start of the map I have to crawl.

This is a polite ask, if you have took the tome to read this poem please be kind and leave a review. thanks jeff