360 No-Scopes

April 19, 2012
By cheneyt BRONZE, Amery, Wisconsin
cheneyt BRONZE, Amery, Wisconsin
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I enter the match with ten seconds to start.
I will show them my well learned art.

We start off and capture the point;
From my team I will be disjoint.

Everyone splits and I start to look.
For enemies have a spot in my death book.

Yes, I keep a log of how many dead,
And yet I note if shot in the head.

Because in this game I have yet to die;
And when I do I will surely cry.

Anyways back to the targets,
I see a few running in the market.

I quickly zoom and bang!
A collateral and gone is their gang.

I see shots on the radar from the west;
I’ll take the road less traveled on my quest.

I round the corner to see a claymore;
These don’t quite affect me anymore.

I jump back and fire a round;
Through the wall I hear the sound.

The body hits the floor and I’m on my way.
Through campers I plow as if I get pay.

The other team begins to moan and complain.
Their cries only return with disdain.

For my team is riding on my success;
We back them up, now we oppress.

They can’t handle the spawn trap;
One of my team has a mishap.

They start to spawn behind us, we take fire!
My team panics and I need to get higher.

I climb atop the highest roof;
From my team I am aloof.

I turn into a noob of sorts;
Hard-scoping until the bodies do contort.

I’m almost out of ammo, just one shot.
I’ve made an error I forgot to hold my spot!

An enemy thought he’d be sneaky and rush the stairs;
Too bad I knew he would be there.

I quickly shoot him and down he falls;
Then I turn back to see someone crawl.

With the ammo from the noob;
I reload; put the clip in its tube.

(Again I’m ready to take them to school;
And Boy, don’t I feel cool!)

He thought he could get a free kill;
But he didn’t account for my skill.

I jump to the right and in midair;
I shoot to end the quick affair.

In 20 seconds the match is done;
Pointed at me is everyone’s gun.

They’ve got me in quite a pinch;
But fear not for it is a cinch.

I pull out my secondary,
And send a few to the mortuary.

My team has failed to have my back;
The only guy with me seems to be a quack.

10 seconds left I’m getting ready to end;
The final killcam I will not lend.

5 seconds to go and I’m ready;
May my aim be true and steady.

I get a running start;
For now is the time for my art.

I jump off the roof and in air;
I spin like a fool without a care.

One spins, two spins, and three;
The ten-eighty is with me.

I see my target and fire a round;
But wait! My target was not sound!

He fired back and what did he do?!
He shot me right in the Shoe!

Why did I die?! That’s not a kill shot!
Why Black Ops? I was so hot!

I cry and whine and break my game;
For, I cannot hide my shame.

The author's comments:
I think I wanted to write this poem because it displays a story that many people who play certain games can go through. Also on a side note Noob- is not a derogatory term in sorts. It is used as a scale to measure the skill of a person who plays the video game you play. Noob being a 1 and pro being a 10.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!