can mods win the contest?
Only if they aren't judging it.
Alright, so I fixed up some of the problems and then I realized that some of the lines start off awkwardly on a different part of the foot, which attributed to part of the problem in the first place. If judging is on Thursday, I won't have time to fix it up some more.
The Night Before Judging'Twas the night before judging on some cold winter date,
I dashed 'cross the snow 'cause I had run late.
The poems were written and submitted to 'tuna,
Who, in place of Strop, was now the kahuna.
The poets were tired but stayed late awake,
While they dreamt of the prize that home they would take,
And I, dressed in wool from the top to the bottom,
Wished very much that the season was autumn,
When inside the guild for the poet and reader
Came such a commotion I feared for the leader.
I ran to the windows and peered through the glass,
But no one was inside and I thought, Alas!
Something had happened since the lights were all out.
It had to be terrible, of that I've no doubt.
I went to the door and pushed on the handle,
Turned to my right, lit a match, then a candle.
I searched up and down from the attic to basement,
Then inside and out from the chimney to casement,
And as I suspected not a poet was there,
No pencil, no paper, not even a hair.
No Parsat, no Zootsuit, no adrecka_33,
Gone 'tuna, Estel and that ManUtd!
No aaron, no Lynoth, no mvpguy,
No hero, nor necro, not even jedi!
Like a leaf on the wind they had all disappeared,
But all of this silence I'd found the most weird.
There was only one thing that could be so quiet,
Especially after that racket and riot.
And then in a flash of a blade made of steel,
I knew who it was as my face hit his heel.
His outline I saw from my place on the ground,
A ninja there standing not making a sound.
He was dressed all in black from his head to his toe.
He hadn't even left a mark in the snow.
A hammer of ban he had 'gainst his shoulder,
So strong that it could demolish a boulder.
His eyes were the part of his face only seen,
But cold was his stare like he was a machine.
His equine-like muzzle stood out from his face,
The only thing that looked much out of place.
A sharp pointy kunai he held in his hand,
As if he's considering where it would land.
I hoped not my face and I hoped not my belly,
And I hoped not the hammer, too, it'd smush me to jelly.
He was vengeful and spiteful, that ninja Straw Pony,
Especially if you thought his ninjutsu was phony.
The kunai he threw barely missed my head;
He wouldn't have missed if he wanted me dead!
But he spoke not a word and retrieved his thrown blade
While flat on the floor I continually laid.
Without blinking an eye to the shadows he faded,
And out of the guild that he had just invaded,
But out of the silence his voice could be heard
In a crisp clear hush I caught every word,
As he left to spread more of his holiday fear,
"If you make fun of me I will ban you, ya hear?"
