Out in space we drifted, roid to void to roid.
Through many minerals we sifted; we burned out many a droid.
Then we found a hint, a glowing herald in the field,
Green Xithricite, the magic rock, a nearly impenetrable shield.

Stations built and great ships launched, massive enterprises,
Crazy projects and exploration, asteroid art surprises.
Empires of trade rose and fell, corporate warfare raged,
Piracy all along the fringes, so many assassinations staged.

Oh yes our minuses abound, life in space has many faults,
But better to die with liberty, than locked in a national waltz.
Though freedom comes with risk aplenty, independence is so sweet.
In free thought, travel, trade, and life, no nation has us beat.

Among the stars we drift along, living where we might,
Propeller-heads and truckers thrive, the Connie is our kite.
Exploring, mining, building, flying; the skies we claim as home.
Through nebulae and asteroid fields, we dance free form as we roam
Through these skies we claim as home.

Is poetry a hobby or a profession for you? You're very good.

There was a faction called "UIT,"
That prided itself on being "free,"
They sold many a gun,
And found that greed was fun,
Until the rats had a killing spree.

Harrrr

There once was a group called UPK,
Who'd love nothing more than to save the day,
But for using equipment bought on low-wage pay,
They tended to die in most gruesome ways.

Thanks. It's a small hobby. I enjoy making things rhyme.

I'm also thinking about writing some short stories. I haven't done much creative writing that wasn't either a poem or a song spoof though, and I'm not used to creating stories, so it's going to take a bit to get the hang of it. So don't hold your breath. Unless you happen to be underwater or suffering from an air scrubber malfunction...

hahaha hortan