Wacky Mercenaries

Daily Poetry

Red and Blu, a forever feud.
Rockets, bombs, and giblets, it rains.
400 grand to skewer the rude,
Weakness leaving the body, that’s pain.

The scout hurts people, as sure as sun shines
as bright as the pyro’s malicious flame,
a French saboteur lit in a blazing crime,
doused by a jar of urine, he certainly whines.

A beam of healing to mend the mercenaries,
doves fly high inspiring peace.
Practical problems applied, at least temporarily.
They dance a conga, sandviches they feast.

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