The Terminator

He swept into the hall where poets had assembled by the thousands. Bearing a stack of papers well-worn and stark with ink and thoughts of strange emotions conceived inside the darkness of God-given convolutions. and eager, much too eager to want out of their confines. 'You turkeys', he began, 'I hold here, in my gifted hand four categories, one of dreck the others I judge kindly though many ought to go and cry on Nature's shoulder while reminiscing of the time, the briefest of all moments when words were flowing unhindered onto paper and hope of global recognition confirming utter talent hung as tufts of fresh pink clouds in front of shining eyes. This is a playground, children, and some of you, a few do have what is required here, to earn participation rights which does apply to rainy days as well. I see that going down the slide or playing in the sand with toys does have prerequisites, it does! So, in an effort to convey true fairness into this little world of recreation I will remain with you, your referee. It shall be mandatory for all who come to check with me and prove their worth. That way we will be able to, through me, to separate the chaff from those few berries.