Green Switches

I still hark back to simpler times;
A time the boys and I defined
with Vespene Gas and Spider Mines,
reddened eyes,
and Ghosts.

I remember veterans
of Halo 3
would laugh at me
for Battle Rifle noobery
and using Plasma Swords.

I recall the way that others claimed
I wasted precious life.
A nostalgia trip
of eating chips and veggie dip
and chatting over Skype.

People warned,
and judged, and scorned:
My priorities ain’t right!
So tell me friend, oh why do I
miss those days of life?

How come I am happiest
when I sit back and copy this,
these forgotten Days of Skype?
Why does Discord strengthen me,
and remind me what I’m like?

If I should want
a revered career,
or to find a girl and settle down,
then why is that just simply crap,
that causes me frown?

The click and clack,
My green-switched Widow, Razer, Black,
is all I really need.
With the pricey toys and all the boys:
That is when I’m free.

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