trip down memory lane, my old ezboard sig
When Groo was but a child,
He was altogether wild,
With a thirst for battle said to be uncanny.
And when he was but a boy,
Someone gave him a toy,
A play knife with which he promptly killed his nanny.
Though the act was accidental,
It was somewhat monumental,
For the lad had just selected his career.
In the years ahead, he'd wonder,
Over here and over yonder,
And he'd slay whatever people happened near.
Now, it's not much of a living,
Folks can be so unforgiving,
When you've killed their friends and loved ones by the hords.
A barbarian gets lonely,
When he's by his one and only,
But he's not alone when he is with his swords
gotta love the Groo poems