A Treespeak Soliloquy

Two years ago, when I had some time to kill, I tried my hand at writing poetry. At first it was about my childhood but, as discussed last week, my childhood and Bionicle are nearly inseparable  so after a while it morphed into the ruminations of my favorite character, Lewa, whose plot arc was abandoned on a cliff hanger when they abruptly stopped updating the story. For context, Lewa spoke in a dialect of conjoined words that often used predictable metaphors (for example he would say "Life-dawn" instead of "childhood") I tried submitting it to a few fanfiction poetry magazines, but it turned out to be too niche even for them.

When I was wind-riding

Away from my fellow toa-heroes

(Because they were boring-dull),

I was capture-trapped and choke-tied 

By bad-strange small-folk.

Then Greg Farshtey

Decided spending time with his daughter

Was more important than continuing the story

Of a Lego franchise that was canceled

More than a year ago.

Ever since then,

With no forward-moving plot-line,

I’m still capture-trap choke-tied

With the bad-strange small-folk.

It’s been a boring-dull eight years.

Eight years in purgatory-hell

Is a long time to hard-think

About sad-strange question-thoughts.

Like what are there five boy-toa

For every one girl toa?

Why are there gender-norms at all?

We’re robots, we don’t make-love.

Which is actually a real-shame.

It sounds like good-fun.

Or why, when was I so high-flying sing-song happy-good

With the five-to-ten year-old age-demographic

Back in my life-dawn,

Are the only people who still care

Man-child computer-nerds

Who should really grow-up and move-on?

Did I really fight swarms of dark-bad Nui-Rama,

Have a Karana control my brain-thoughts,

Live under the rule of an evil-bad world-master,

And save the universe,

Only to be under-stuck

A German pump manufacturer,

A wildlife conservancy,

And a Chinese Android ROM

On the Wikipedia disambiguation-page?

To stink-rot

In a thousand forgotten toy bins?

Of-course-not.

I’m a Lego-toy, Lego-toys don’t stink-rot.

Plastic lives immortal.

But we do decompose.

We’re broken down into our component parts

And made anew

By the children-spawn

Of the first-owners.

It’s not a bad fate.