The hair on my foot

can never be replaced by your armor,

can never be forgotten by one of your arrow,

can never have a dent as your axe,

but somehow is my own curse

when i step on something far more worse

than undead stink

than a Mumakil’s rage

or than of a fell beast wailing

why then when i whine,

piss moan and bitch,

like the troll you are

as much of stench of goblin 

or even an orc’s breath.

So please i ask nothing but to give me at least

one of that delish,

ever light

that can fatten any warg

or even a boar, 

That i ask of

cant get enough of


Bilbo Baggins


artsydhude 2005


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