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Practice Poem - Poor Little Timmy: Down into well, poor Timmy fell, Down he fell into the pits of hell. Brought into hell by an eldritch spell, Poor little Timmy who fell down the well. Alone he cowered and shivered and shook, He shook for hours, so long it took, So long it took for him to feel well, Well enough to explore this hell... Through pathways littered with scenes most gory; Most gory indeed was little Timmy's story, A story of fear and suffering defined, Poor little Timmy, he ran out of time... Now then, I think I'll go welcome my little guest... -Chen Yuan Wen, 14th December 2012

I know that you're broken, And all your pieces are scattered, I know that you're bruised, And your pale skin is battered. I can see the scars, That you're trying to hide, And I can see the hurt, Burried beneath your pride. You're barely holding together, Your tattered, fraying threads, The harder you try to keep it in, The more the hole spreads. Stop trying to battle alone, When I'm here with sword in hand, I can help you pick up the pieces, There'll be nothing we can't withstand. Don't give up the fight, My friend who is so fragile, Take my hand and let me hold you, Let me love you for a while. You think that it's not worth it, And just