**For Destoyer Poet's Contest
Rock ~ Paper ~ Scissors
He threw ‘round his bouldery weight,
Threatening to smash all with his gait
Filled with shear fear
Wishing paper was here,
O’ our threads have been snipped by the fates!
But in flew the papery prints
The champion of scissors long since
So loud did we rattle
Crying out for a battle
That the stout flint began to wince.
Pulp pounced like a wafery veneer
Then crumbling was all we could hear
And after the trouble
The remains were just rubble
But paper knew something was queer.
He screamed that we misunderstood,
But it’s his head that’s made from thick wood
With no rocky pain
It’s scissors that reign
And we cut him to shreds where he stood.
**I should stop watching Game of Thrones LOL!