The word, defining, muzzles; the drawn line
Ousts mistier peers and thrives, murderous,
In establishments which imagined lines

Can only haunt.  Sturdy as potatoes,
Stones, without conscience, word and line endure,
Given an inch.  Not that they're gross (although

Afterthought often would have them alter
To delicacy, to poise) but that they
Shortchange me continuously:  whether

More or other, they still dissatisfy.
Unpoemed, unpictured, the potato
Bunches its knobby browns on a vastly
Superior page; the blunt stone also.

Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Was this the right choice?
Seeing warnings on twitter
Thinking they're all quitters
Thinking you're better
But in reality, you're just as equal as them.

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Seeing your friends play, you start multiplying
Not even touching a pipe and dying
You're on the floor, you're crying
Pressing start over and over again and trying
Knowing your high score is low and start lying
because you know you ****.

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Questions going through your mind
"Why did I die?"
"Did I really touch a pipe?"
"Why do iPhone users only have day while Android have both day and night?"
"Why is it slower on other phones?"
"How do you get past 20?"
"Why do I keep dying?"
"Why do Android users have other colors?"
But the question you should be asking is...
"Am I going mad?"

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

Now, the resolution.
Stop the addiction.
Press that "x"
You know its for the greater good.
I know YOU feel the ANGER whenever you die.
You don't wanna risk throwing your phone for that.
Take my advice. DO IT.
Before it ruins your life.

But as the day passes...
You can't.
You can't.
You can't.

Its too late.
Flappy Bird is now part of life.
Even though the anger
The anger that feels like your chest being stabbed by a knife
Hurts you so much
Deep inside you get a little happy...
Knowing somewhere in the world someone trying the same game
Got less than you.
Less than 3, 2, or 1.
And because of this you want to beat more people who **** more than you.

And this should be an achievement
You, state your name, got YOUR own high score.
YOU did it
YOU made it to one pipe or even more.
And if you didn't
Well ***** for you

But as the day passes...
Flap Flap goes the Flappy Bird

I had for my winter evening walk—
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o’clock of a winter eve.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

John Keats
John Keats
John
Please put your scarf on.

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.