Villanelle Poem - On RPGs

This is my villanelle poem, about roleplaying games, that I did for my Creative Writing class. Yes, I am that big of a dork.

Dungeons and Dragons Do Weigh
On the Mind of a Boy, a Man Apart

My pride, so torn, it does betray:
A game of rolling dice and playing roles--my secret art.
The quest--my craft glorified--so hid away.

As men and boys, like boys, do convey
Communal bliss in playing games--their glowing heart,
Their pride, so torn, I do betray!

And do brave men, in myth, not dragons slay?
Yet Boys--now men--from such dreams depart;
The quest--our craft glorified--so hid away.

What would they have me stand and say?
“Fellows, no more fantasy!” and with shame impart
My pride, so dimmed; my companions I would betray.

Can I reconcile these twisted halves now sadly turned away:
Vivid creativity from cold maturity supposedly so smart?
My quest--my craft glorified--I cannot cast away!

This shame, culled by joy, can bring me no dismay,
And my trembling ego will not so easily thwart
My pride, now set to shine my path. Thus I cannot betray

My treasured quest--my craft glorified--I did once lock away.


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And this is the rough draft of my villanelle poem. I like the final much better:
"Playing Role-Playing Games"

It’s embarrassing to feel this way,
To roll dice and call it social art;
I’m torn on how my passions play.

As men and boys, like boys, convey
The shameless joy at their shared heart;
It’s embarrassing to feel this way.

Do brave men, in myth, not dragons slay?
Yet boys, now men, from imagination depart.
And thus: I’m torn on how my passions play.

And what would all the women say?
Surely they find its substance smart;
Oh, it’s embarrassing to feel this way.

What of my elders? Can I turn away
Vivid fantasy then maturity impart?
Alas, I’m torn on how my passions play!

I fear they feel complete dismay
Which leaves me tasting sweetness tart.
It’s embarrassing to feel this way:
Judged, now torn, on how my passions play.