‘Twas the night before the first day, when all throughout Stevens
Not an exam was stirring, not for any reasons;
The dorms were full with freshmen with hopes,
With thoughts that Farvardin would soon show them the ropes;
The buildings were cleansed of any chance of COVID,
While teachers were preparing to be devoted;
And The Stute in their office, with printing ready,
Had just prepared their first issue for publication already,
When over campus there arose such a clatter,
The Stute sprang from their office to see what was the matter.
Away to the window they flew with honor,
Leaving the Student Center and running through Palmer.
The moon shining down on New York City
Gave the new semester a sense of no pity,
What did The Stute see coming around a slant,
But a minivan, and eight members of the physical plant,
With a trunk, so full and so packed,
The Stute knew they were being attacked.
Quicker than Santa, the plant were thieving their racks,
And the plant grabbed, and packed, and took each one without lax;
From, Babbio! From, MPK! From, EAS!
No purpose! The Stute could only guess,
As the plant members were moving the racks into their car,
The van was full of racks, a metallic bazaar.
On the brisk fall night, The Stute lurked with awe,
Meeting this obstacle for publication, this could be tragic flaw;
As the plant convened, they returned back to Griffith
With their van full of racks, the Stute’s hopes became myth.
Then, The Stute returned back to their office,
The Editor-in-Chief feeling extremely nauseous.
The Stute sat down all in dismay, a knock came at the door,
Trevor came to the office with love and candour.
He was dressed all in sweats, from his head to his foot,
And his mood was prepared for any danger afoot;
A bundle of anxiety he had carried on his back,
He heard the portraying of the kidnapped racks, and felt like a smack.
He comforted the Editor and took his trusty cart,
He took all the printed papers and improvised with heart,
Three hours later, as Trevor wiped the sweat off his brow,
Stared down on the Griffith building with a stare as cold as snow;
The mysterious physical plant taking and bringing things to campus,
They do it all in a flash, sometimes like common bandits;
However, they are only following orders,
Where the racks have gone, they may have gone outside our borders.
The Stute will always be wondering why they were taken,
But thanks to Trevor, The Stute will always be unshaken.
Although now normal, The Stute will always remember the racks,
The racks that were once cherished, and now you know all the facts.
Be First to Comment