Twas the Night Before Hal-Con
By Larry Gent
A poem about the last minute Con Woes.
Every creature was stirring, especially the committee
The costumes were hung in the closest with care,
In hopes that tomorrow would soon be there;
The cosplayers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of excitement danc’d in their heads,
When from the other room there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
The helmet had fallen and crashed to the floor
Taking damage only seen from a great war.
The stitching had failed and my cloak was undone
And I stood there staring with a look of pure stun.
This cosplay had been months of hard work,
It had driven me mad and sent me berserk.
I could not sew when all this had began,
And none of this project had proceeded as planned.
It started as clothe and evolved into foam.
I embroidered, and painted and even used chrome.
The cost had tripled from my initial budget
And my family had questioned my better judgement.
But I pressed onwards until it was done
Because deep down I found it all fun.
I took a deep breath, and reached for my kit,
I glanced at my suit and figured a refit.
I stared at my costume as the moon glowed bright
Happy, Hal-Con to all but I ain’t sleeping tonight.