Paintballing: Dawn of World War 111

As I cautiously entered the sturdy chained door,

Quickly scanning my new surroundings,

Paintball all over, like an array of bespattered blood on floor,

My heart thumping rapidly- as it was the sight astounding.



The paintball (adjective) arena had objects for cover,

Like dilapidated cars and derelict tyres, good word use!

I wish I could simply crawl under the cover, this line doesn't paint a picture for the reader, I'd scratch it or paint it more vividly so the reader understands

Just like a wild rat burrows like wildfire. Really weird imagery here. You also used 'like' twice too closely together. I think these lines were just made so you could rhyme with 'tire'. Try not to force the rhyme.



There were 3 people on each team,

I was on the unforgiving team (synonym) red,

Through the dark atmosphere our red uniform did gleam,

We had to live up to our reputation: ‘’the furious red.’’ red and red don't rhyme



Our team members were Matthew the smart one,

Ethan the experienced lad, lad? Again, don't force the rhyme

Me: agile number one,

We were invincible, unbeatable, boy were we glad! you're coming off as cheesy, though I do like the first half of the sentence a lot



We were against a team called Cool Nitro Blue,

It felt like the beginning of World War 3,

We had strategy they had no clue,

Our plan would make them flee. Great stanza



The armour was an extra skin jammed fast to my body by sweat, 'jammed' isn't the right adjective. why don't you delete 'jammed fast' and add 'adhered' ?

Their mask was the dark mask of a devious robber,

The Cool Nitro Blue had experienced lads but that was no threat, lads?!?

The blues were stagnant on the ground, they were such land lubbers! robber doesn't rhyme with lubber



It had started, my body filled with raging terror and tension,

My breast plate was has hard as that of the black knight,

As I prayed on and on to that I'd live to get my pension,

Nobody daring to shoot, so not to trigger a fight. great stanza



First shot was fired by the blues butcomma ohhh what a waste of shells,

Ethan behind a tyre tire let out a spray of bullets with rage,

One blue missed his steps and bullets then bade him farewell,

That was bye-bye to one blue and he stormed out with rage. rage doesn't rhyme with rage



My hefty gun bulky with the 100 bullets it had in it,

My sweaty grip was tight against the jet black gun,

I looked from left to right from my cover, please don’t let me be hit,

The blazing heat did not make it easy- curse that summer sun! good stanza



As my arm was bespattered with paint,

Questioning myself: will we win?

I fought the urge not to faint, this doesn't seem very fierce..

This had been a tough battle but have we the chance to win? you've repeated the same idea twice in one of the most influential stanzas in your poem. It loses its appeal

Salut! iceprincess here to review your poem!

Paintballing pwns everything! Ahem. Anyways.

I like this poem with its lovely rhyme scheme and descriptions and all, but the metre is, quite frankly, horrendous at times. I'll be very harsh with you, because I love paintballing and poems; and most of all, because I believe this poem has loads of potential.

Let us look at your ending stanza:

As my arm was bespattered with paint,

Questioning myself: will we win?

I fought the urge not to faint,

This had been a tough battle but have we the chance to win?

Great poem! I love paintballing