The Sins of ManRiddles are little poems or phrases that pose a question that needs answering. Riddles frequently rhyme, but this is not a requirement.
I stand with my friends, in neat array,
And many people come to play.
We silent are, give no offence.
Yet, we're attacked, with objects, dense.
Right brave we are, as teams of men
Attack our little band of ten.
Though scattered often, far and wide,
We stand again, in silent pride.
What pleasures gain you, sons of Eve,
To give my comrades cause to grieve?
Please, oh humans, have a care.
Though your power can strike, it is kinder to spare.
Use thy brains, oh show us how.
Tell us what we are, right now!!!!
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