The Rumble

Stuffed inside my one-room cabin,
Secret plan about to happen.
In dark quiet exciement flows,
‘Twas this night that we chose.
Twelve of us but they just two,
Odds too good to be true.
Their shadows seen behind the curtain,
Our prefects’ check-in route is certain.
First stop will be cabin six.
Judgment for their frequent tricks.
The bell resounds, its ten o’clock
We’re freshmen wolves, no more a flock.
The trap is lay, our muscles flex,
Prepped to give lacrosse checks.

A change is heard: their knock is fainter.
Not this scene first do they enter!
An empty room they’ve surly burst,
The jig is up, our plan is cursed!
Long minutes pass…room’s a sauna,
Nervous warriors, newfound drama.
Outta sight, omniscience theirs.
Not this fear in nightmares.
“Stay here guys, our strength is numbers,
Remain together, defend these chambers—”
Wild footsteps, beasts approaching,
Ironic tale now unfolding.
Fun’ling through the cabin’s entrance
Whole senior class: reinforcements.
Men with beards and soccer sock whips,
Our strongest guy squeaks, “Abandon ship!”
They fling our bodies and squash our pride,
This band of brothers humilified.
Sent to bed, extra morning chores,
Wiser next year, we’ll be sophomores.

~ by Barron on April 24, 2007.