In the shire we gloat our glory
It is as if nobody won.
I’d take the first, but not the last
He’s the tormented one.
Furious words coveted our neighbor
Held great disdain for the rule.
Isn’t it irritating when you think he’s a stallion
When really he is a mule?
The stench of the garden did nothing
For the stench within the wall.
I’d say for certain this is a test
But I don’t want to alarm you all.
Chained, but not forgotten
This is such a subtle war.
We fought, we bled, we took apart
What we didn’t want anymore
Both, with a wicked disease
We only had trouble with the glare.
The problem with this story is
I wasn’t even there.