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This is Magcargo's Poetrydex entry. Comment and enjoy!

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From the highest perch,
On this volcano.
I can see for miles,
All the way to Sinnoh.

And all these places,
I've never been.
And all these things.
I've never seen.

And all the things,
I want to do,
I'll never get to,
This is true.

Because I harden,
If I get too cold,
I freeze, and I die,
But I'm old,

Old and tired
Of this place,
Longing for
A change of pace.

A life spent,
Inside these walls,
No light inside,
These cave halls.

And to myself,
Always lying,
So soon, I
Will be dying.

And I'd prefer
To die,
With a new world,
In my eyes.

This need for freedom from these walls,
In me it sears, stabs, pains, burns,
I long to finally feel a breath of fresh air,
And face my death on my own terms.

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