My Saints Poem.

But if a loss my Ken can’t take
I can always bake him a hearty fruitcake

Here's an AI poem:

Ode to the Ailing Saints:

A rusted fleur-de-lis upon the shield,
A tarnished gold that does not gleam,
The hopes of Sunday, long concealed,
Are buried in a losing dream.
The autumn sun beats down with heat,
Upon the turf that promises a fight,
But shuffling feet and slow retreat,
Dim the once-resplendent black and white.
The Dome, a tomb of roaring sound,
Where ghosts of seasons past still play,
Now echoes with a silence profound,
As fortunes turn and fade away.
The flags that waved now hang so low,
The chants that thundered, now a sigh.
Another fumble, another blow,
Another broken "Who Dat" cry.
So let the bitter air consume,
The final whistle, and the shame.
A dark and melancholy gloom,
Now settles over the Saints' game.

The SuperDome stands
Quiet, waiting for a win
This Saints team sucks arse

A Saints Haiku

A solemn fall
Not even an Autumn Brees
A franchise changing leaves
Decay is showing
But spring brings new youth
As long as Mickey doesn't screw the pooch

quote:

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How much adderall do you take? Bc you start the dumbest fricking threads.

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People like to come to this thread to write poems about the Saints and relax.

Don't harsh the mellow here, dude.

Shall I write you a poem to make you feel better?

This is my poem:

GFY

Roses are red,
We suck again.

Being torn, born(orange)

Being terrible (forgettable, regrettable etc)