I own nothing but the poem!
The timing starts: 3-2-1!
You're ready for a game of fun.
The music starts, your senses reeling,
Blocks start falling from the ceiling.
The aim of the game -
It's rather lame...
To form a line
So that you'll be fine.
(To wine and dine?)
The blocks will vanish if a line you form;
To have in excess is quite the norm.
Rotate to fit!
If stuck, don't quit!
The blocks are speeding
Down they fall!
Don't lose focus
And don't answer that call!
The blocks are piling up - oh no!
You feel a sudden sense of woe
You won't make it, and before you know,
In seconds you've lost; you're too slow!
And though the game is hard to beat,
400,000 lines is quite a feat.
The glory of victory: total bliss!
You'll be back, they say it's like cannibis
You've played for hours without a break,
No food or drink for your thirst to slake,
And still you want another round!
Please realise your feet should stay on the ground.
I say in your judgement there's something amiss,
For you MUST play again this game: Tetris!
For the record, I've never managed 400,000 lines.