We asked and you wrote - a huge thank you to all of our participants for submitting some awesome poems. Check out a few of our favorites below as well as some timeless highlights from this bitter rivalry.
And congratulations to our winner Pierce with his poem, "The Ones with Black Feathers":
Oh Ravens of Baltimore wherever you may fly,
be fearful when soaring in the grey Pittsburgh skies.
For storms Black and Gold will knock you out cold,
like the ironclad defense will make your offense fold.
Words cannot express our hate for this bird,
it runs deeper than our rivers first, second, and third.
Each time our teams meet it’s a battle to the death,
a true test of toughness to the very last breath.
Since 1996 we were enemies henceforth,
we’ll win the great war for the AFC North.
So try to swarm our line, or flutter down our field,
to the ones with black feathers we shall never yield!
Another one of our favorites was from Lisa:
Once upon a Pittsburgh dreary,
Ravens flocked, though weak and weary.
They huddled, snapped, and tried to throw,
against the Steelers, 10-0.
Detested still in mid- November,
Steelers fans will long remember.
"Ravens" might be how it sounds -
To us, they're still the Stinkin' Browns.
We hate them, then, in many ways;
From Harbaugh's calls to Jackson's plays.
They may show up at our North Shore,
but they'll still suck ... forever more.
From Bethany - "A Pittsburgh Feast":
Thanksgiving approaches,
But it’s not turkey I’m cravin’.
What I really want for dinner
Is a plate of burned Ravens.
With a side of stuffing
The ball down their craws,
Harbaugh casserole, mashed Jackson,
And some crybaby sauce.
I’ll be at the table
Screaming “Go Steelers, Go!”
Looking forward to dessert,
A slice of Baked crow.
From Chris:
Wash your hands cuz,
Redd up your distanced tray table.
We’re carving two birds tonight
cause, daggumit, we’re able.
Wearing your ‘ol cream suit I see?
Ain’t that the one you lost?
You dunce, don’t you dry-clean?
What’s that, cranberry sauce?
Give thanks n’at and pray
that this win won’t be too arduous.
Tonight’s feast of the fowl we hate
shall surely taste Lamar-velous
Thumbnail via Getty.