Are you my mommy?
The fine young warrior Snorf was born without much common sense.
Fact of the matter, truth be told, he was more than a little dense.
When faced with a foe of fearsome size,
He’d draw his sword and gaze in it’s eyes,
…and say, “Are you my mommy?”
The dreadful dragon perched atop it’s mound of hoarded gold
And glared in fury at one who was both foolish and too bold,
It blasted him with frightful fire
When his words drew the dragon’s ire,
…Snorf asked the dragon, “Are you my mommy?”
The endless horde of trolls and orcs was a deeply terrifying sight
And their battle with the warrior Snorf lasted far into the night,
He slashed and hacked and sliced again
Until the monsters all died or ran,
…and “Are you my mommy?” was his battle cry.
The talking tree was mortified when Snorf asked his famous line,
And swung one long and leafy branch to swat the oaf aside,
Snorf swung, and chopped, and sparked a light,
The bonfire burned for three straight nights.
“You’re firewood. You’re not my mommy.”
So to the tavern Snorf did go, to drink his worries away,
“He’s ugly! His mama must have been a troll!” a drunk did say,
Our hero Snorf took offense to that,
took out his hammer and squashed him flat,
Finished his drink, and that was that.
“Don’t talk about my mommy,” he said, as he glumly walked away.
If your mommy lets you play with nickels, then take them out of your mouth, and kick them this way, via PayPal, to firstname.lastname@example.org!