The Official Fanfiction University of Middle-earth: Part LIII
by Camilla Sandman
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Part Fifty-Three: A Poem Quite Horrid When Lina Was Torrid

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This horrid poem brought to you with the help of Bad Poetry Assistant Iocane, who consulted on rhymes. Spank you
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'A poem', he said, 'you must write'
in his tone so ever light
A big long poem for next class
Otherwise she will not pass!
So here is Lina's grand attempt
Try to read it without contempt
Even if it is really bad
And just makes you oh so sad.

It was a day so warm and nice
Even if the Nuzgul had got lice
Lina woke from a high-pitched scream
Seems Jillian, covered in cream
Had tried to woo a certain elf
But instead became a balrogged self
Peace returned though, soon enough
Until Lina heard Gandalf cough

The old wizard had fallen sick
After Barlog had given a lick
A friendly action, really it was
But indigestion the Balrog has
Eaten one too many drop-outs
And now he just sits and pouts
For the Balrog only wants a hug
And a student squished like a bug

Lina awoke, ready to lash
She overslept and had to dash
She was not of mornings fond
Especially since she awoke in a pond
Gimli had forgot to mention
Ragna's new intervention
That gave you instant morning bath
But was mostly a cause to laugh

Annoyed she went to get clean
But by the Witch-Wall she was seen
He called out to her so bold
'Let the Witch-Wall you hold!'
Luckily, Gimli could throw an axe
When the wall would poetic wax
The great throw was such a turn-on
And she tackled Gimli, Glóin's son

Morning came and went
The wall wailed over his dent
Tadad sneaked in to some Elrond spot
She thought he was really hot
Instead she over Toey tripped
Who heavily into drinks had sipped
He missed his wife something terrible
And life seemed so unbearable

Poor BreadLegs was also sad
But at Toey she was quite mad
World domination was fine and dandy
Would probably also come in handy
But she wanted to get some sweet loving
Not hear the about the constant shoving
That Toey did with bad spelling
Even in his own dwelling

Finally, Lina with Toey had a chat
Convinced him he had been a brat
Thinking only of himself
And not his family in the shelf
He wooed his BreadLegs for a day
Until she would finally the words say
'Oyoy!' she said and grinned at last
That evening they had a blast

Poor Lina though, was late for class
And still all covered in grass
She ran like lightning through the halls
Praying she'd not run into walls
Especially the kind that spoke
Horrid feelings it would evoke
It was really quite a pain
Bad poetry will drive you insane

Tom Bombadil was the master of that
Wearing proudly his yellow hat
With urple boots to nicely match
As he taught the class how to hatch
Those awful rhymes to praise his being
And the many shades of green worth seeing
Late as Lina was, she missed his ode
Which very well for the day bode

She took a seat next to Grey Lady Bast
Who looked so terribly aghast
The ode had made her ears bleed
But Bombadil had paid no heed
He spoke and spoke and said some more
Shaking everyone to the core
How bad could poetry possibly be?
For this was enough to make you flee

Lina tried to listen, she really did
But in her mind a mental image hid
Of darling Gimli in the buff
Handsome, sweet and oh so tough
It was nearly enough to make her drool
And not think about that silly fool
Who went 'eeew' at the mention of a dwarf
And should be thrown off a wharf

She really had become quite smitten
He made her feel like a naughty kitten
Love was an odd little thing
At least it didn't make her sing
Like certain people tried to do
So that they might Legolas woo
Sadly, elves had quite sensitive ears
And the singing only caused tears

No, lusting and loving were not the same
Love was the fire, lust was the flame
Legolas was mighty fine to behold
But to Gimli her heart was sold
Frodo was cute and sweet to hug
But he did not fill her blood like a drug
And Morgoth was evil and really no good
Despite what he might hide under his hood

As class finally ended she ran to the door
Bad poetry she could bear no more
The class felt the same, looking numb
Some students fearing they had gone dumb
Brog even whimpered she was blind
The urple boots were really not kind
And thus it ends, a poem so awful
It's a miracle it's even lawful



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