"Ode To My Five-Hole"

Curseth the hole between my pads,
Full of emptiness,
Gaping cavern of twine,
A yawning mouth.

Shooters salivate at the sight of thee,
Dilated pupils with the puck on their stick,
Gaping cavern of twine,
A yawning mouth.

Shot!

SHUT THINESELF HOLE!
WE ARE THE KEEPER,
WE ARE THE TENDER.
OF GOALS; NONE SHALL PASS!!!

The circling red light consumes my peripheral,
A fog horn beats the drum in my ear.
Curseth thee hole between my pads!
Nay, Curseth mineself for I hath wrought thee...

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