Official Dougie Christmas Containment Thread™

[Professor Consent]

I found a poem I wrote when I was just out of high school and thought I was deep writing about the commercialization of my local bowling alley. Lmao FAGGOT:

The bowling alley, once a charm,
Now trades its soul for cash and harm.
The wooden lanes, with scuffs and wear,
Replaced by screens that flash and glare.

Where laughter rang in dim-lit haze,
Now ads parade in neon blaze.
No quiet moments, no friendly game,
Just branded cups and prize-wheel fame.

The snack bar's gone, replaced by chains,
Authentic feels give way to gains.
Arcades now roar, a corporate scheme,
A far cry from the hometown dream.

Oh, sacred space of strikes and spares,
Now sold to profits, unaware.
A hollow shell of what once was,
Commercial hands the final cause.

 

[RapistWithHIV]

I found a poem I wrote when I was just out of high school and thought I was deep writing about the commercialization of my local bowling alley. Lmao FAGGOT:

The bowling alley, once a charm,
Now trades its soul for cash and harm.
The wooden lanes, with scuffs and wear,
Replaced by screens that flash and glare.

Where laughter rang in dim-lit haze,
Now ads parade in neon blaze.
No quiet moments, no friendly game,
Just branded cups and prize-wheel fame.

The snack bar's gone, replaced by chains,
Authentic feels give way to gains.
Arcades now roar, a corporate scheme,
A far cry from the hometown dream.

Oh, sacred space of strikes and spares,
Now sold to profits, unaware.
A hollow shell of what once was,
Commercial hands the final cause.

I think it's deep.

 

[Bam's Wrinkled Thumb]

I found a poem I wrote when I was just out of high school and thought I was deep writing about the commercialization of my local bowling alley. Lmao FAGGOT:

The bowling alley, once a charm,
Now trades its soul for cash and harm.
The wooden lanes, with scuffs and wear,
Replaced by screens that flash and glare.

Where laughter rang in dim-lit haze,
Now ads parade in neon blaze.
No quiet moments, no friendly game,
Just branded cups and prize-wheel fame.

The snack bar's gone, replaced by chains,
Authentic feels give way to gains.
Arcades now roar, a corporate scheme,
A far cry from the hometown dream.

Oh, sacred space of strikes and spares,
Now sold to profits, unaware.
A hollow shell of what once was,
Commercial hands the final cause.

So Dan Mullen raped you at the bowling alley. Got it