Originally Posted by TwistedChief:
‘Twas the night before the playoffs,
And all through Kansas City,
Not a person was restful,
Neither the slow nor the witty,
A playoff history,
Littered with despair,
Heartache and sadness,
A fanbase grasping for air,
We lost a game where no one punts,
And have a kicker without a name,
Grbac to Dawson incomplete,
Mariota to himself, oh what a shame!
4 TD lead in the second half?
My oh my, a guaranteed win,
But we are the Chiefs and we know darkness,
We bleed red above our skin,
But this time things have changed,
The calculus surely not the same,
We’ve been blessed with one of the gods,
St. Patrick Mahomes the young man’s name,
MVP at 23,
50 TDs and 5k yards,
What else is there to do?
A playoff win finally in the cards?
Not against Brian Hoyer,
We know that didn’t count,
But against a mighty team,
One in victory proud to mount,
And lo and behold we face the Colts,
Mortal enemy for the years,
Led by Captain Andrew Luck,
Who founded a river of KC tears,
Poetry is written,
It is spoken, it is sung,
It is personal, it is jarring,
It pours forth from mighty tongue,
For decades we have cried,
For decades we’ve felt pain,
For decades we’ve been lonely,
For decades we’ve seen rain,
But what if this were the plan?
Battle hardened and in despair,
On last legs we’ve been weary,
Chiefs playoffs? Barely care!
For this is when we rise,
For this is when we shine,
For this is when we see,
The meaning of showtime,
Stay true mighty Chief fans,
Our fate begins tomorrow,
Happiness awaits us,
As we cleanse our years of sorrow.
And then we will wipe the tears away from our spouses
who too have suffered from our long time away at war
We will start a new fire, with champagne douses
to convince her, too, that Mahomes is the king forevermore
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