Below is some poetry which was originally written by me and posted on TheOneRing.net's message boards.
(after Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act II, Scene 7)
....All of Torn's a stage
And all the Sibs and Sibettes merely posters:
We have our Main and their Reading Room;
And one Sib in his time has many threads,
His posts being seven types. At first the Newbie,
Asking "who's cast as the first Aragorn".
And then the FAQing Poster, with his "Balrogs
Have Wings?" and *glugs* he gets, forcing him then
Unwillingly to lurk. And then the Knower,
Sighing like Sauron with glugful postings
When newbies ask the same things. Then a Soldier
Full of moddings, and seeming like a God,
Jealous of admins, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in Xoanon's mouth. And then the Justice,
In Feedback lurking with good intent there,
With quick advice, and helpful in his way,
Full of wise words and admin suggestions;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and eager Inferno,
With spectacles on nose, and Nimrodel,
Whose youthful sound covers a board too wide
For mortal man; and also Altaira
Turning again toward childish newbies, them
To lead and point aright. Last post of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second lurkishness, and near oblivion, -
Sans posts, sans GAS, sans *snert*, sans everything.
(After: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost)
Whose post this is, I do not know,
It soon will be deleted though.
Yes, soon this post will disappear
And thus retain the status quo.
The admins all must find it drear
With posts by trolls now sprinkled here.
The other posts say nothing new
The slowest evening of the year.
With posts O.T. and language blue
They cause offense to me and you.
But then, there's nothing else to see:
With topics old, and rumours few.
These trolls will leave soon, leave us be,
They'll vanish almost instantly.
One month to go: TT EE
One month to go! TT EE !