I know for a fact I won the Christmas story,
But no one wanted to give me the glory.
So I'm not even going to try,
Cause I know they'll just tell a lie.
For those of you that don't know,
they gave the 1st place prize to the wrong foe.
I just had to get that out of my dome,
enough bull-crap lets get to my poem.
During December waiting for winter to come,
I was about to get a late night run.
When during my jog,
came a misty, cool fog.
But what was cool was not cold,
unusual breeze, that put me on hold.
my stomach growl with hunger for roast,
but something fishing kept me, I think a ghost.
mist got so thick i couldn't see,
until came a sudden, that I felt free.
what was free I couldn't bear,
when I notice I was falling in air.
just as I thought that I was dying,
It came to me that I was flying.
When I reached in my pocket to get my money,
I notice there wasn't a pocket, because I was a monkey.
I didn't only notice I was this dark reaper,
but I was in a pack of others, and I was the leader.
I was getting tired and I wanted to stop,
and it couldn't be any worse time on the clock.
We were getting a breather and going to eat an ant,
but awaiting on us was a fellow classmate named Brant.
He began shooting with his gun,
But it was to late for us to run.
The fight went on and on,
and he kept killing us til the break of dawn.
The pile of our dead bodies kept goin deeper,
so I said, we must flee from this vicious life reaper.
I left that night in the biggest shock,
and there wasn't much left to my big, bad, flock.
If this poem does not win,
do not expect me to grin.
I know mine is the best,
so please! ... just give it a rest.
Even though I have a quote from a friend,
I made sure he was willing to lend.
Even though I don't care,
I still don't think that it's fair.