Believe it or not, but I actually made this in my English class for a grade(A+). I also learned that my teacher and his son play TF2, Epic!!! Anyways, here's the poem.
The first team is Red.
The second is Blu.
That Spy is just laughing.
He just dominated you!
All in all it was a pretty good game.
But with that kinda score, you'll never earn fame.
Now you know for whom this farce is to blame.
It was that wretched Spy, and now you know his name!
Now you're following him from server to server.
Simply watching, just an observer.
Waiting for any slip in his skill.
Just so you can attain that one single kill.
After you blink you see him disappear.
Wondering where he's at, he's the one you want to sear.
Just as you're thinking of his head meeting the 'Jack.
His knife just then met your back.
You suddenly spawn, in a rage.
You can't hold it in, like you're in a cage.
You burst out of spawn burning anything that turns.
The Spy is revealed, and then he burns.
You continue to burn him, reveling in the kill.
Just waiting for him to die. Oh! What a Thrill!
He finally dies, his knife still jabbing.
But that spy is now dead, no more backstabbing.