"Six Seven"
In days of old when nights ran long,
The server pulsed with laughter strong.
Six, seven—roll call made,
We joked and spawned, and maps we played.
A meme was born from numbers dumb,
Just two digits, and yet we'd come
To chant them loud in every chat,
A sacred bond—imagine that.
“Six, seven!” Someone’d type,
We’d spam the feed, the perfect hype.
An inside joke, a tribal cry,
A way to say, we’re here, we try.
But seasons shift, and people fade,
Real life calls, the rent gets paid.
One by one, they ghost or drift,
The once-full list begins to shift.
Six, seven… now just three,
Sometimes one—occasionally me.
The voice chat's quiet, echoes ring,
No one left to clip the king.
The Discord pings feel out of place,
Memes unanswered, empty space.
And yet I wait, I log in still,
Half out of habit, half goodwill.
For maybe one day, who can tell?
A ghost returns, a mic will swell—
“Six, seven,” typed with giddy pride,
And for a moment, we're all inside.
In days of old when nights ran long,
The server pulsed with laughter strong.
Six, seven—roll call made,
We joked and spawned, and maps we played.
A meme was born from numbers dumb,
Just two digits, and yet we'd come
To chant them loud in every chat,
A sacred bond—imagine that.
“Six, seven!” Someone’d type,
We’d spam the feed, the perfect hype.
An inside joke, a tribal cry,
A way to say, we’re here, we try.
But seasons shift, and people fade,
Real life calls, the rent gets paid.
One by one, they ghost or drift,
The once-full list begins to shift.
Six, seven… now just three,
Sometimes one—occasionally me.
The voice chat's quiet, echoes ring,
No one left to clip the king.
The Discord pings feel out of place,
Memes unanswered, empty space.
And yet I wait, I log in still,
Half out of habit, half goodwill.
For maybe one day, who can tell?
A ghost returns, a mic will swell—
“Six, seven,” typed with giddy pride,
And for a moment, we're all inside.