The fandoms, a love poem


The sorting hat landed me in Hufflepuff,

a bright, old place,

the type hobbits would appreciate.

See it now second breakfast, merry songs.

Away we would drift on the TARDIS,

to brighter places and elegant feasts.

And in times of darkness,

we would wield the Force for good,

slay Smaug and kind.

Maybe nurture obsessions most bizarre,

with sleek Chevy Impalas,

and sad brooding angels

or the odd Vulcan.

get dogs we believe wolves,

name them Ghost or Nymeria.

Have best friends named Watson,

in constant search of a red pill

run off to battle at the end of the day when our eyes flutter closed.

For the age of man is tested,

the ocean rises.

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