On Monday, I looked down the drain,
and saw a dancing spider there,
it wriggled and it struggled hard,
then fell down into who knows where?
On Tuesday, I looked down the drain,
and saw a clump of long white hairs,
no-one here has locks like that,
it couldn't possibly be theirs.
On wednesday, I looked down the drain,
and saw a little ball of teeth,
I've still got all of mine, I know,
did they just come up from beneath?
On thursday, I looked down the drain,
and saw an eye stare back through it,
it looked quite human, blinking there,
down in the dark wet of the pit.
On friday, I looked down the drain,
and saw a finger, beckoning,
a hand then popped up through the hole,
five wrinkled fingers, all grasping.
On saturday, I looked down the drain,
and saw a pale thing grinning back,
So I reached and turned the hot tap on,
I saw steam filling up the black.
On sunday, I looked down the drain,
and saw nothing there at all,
just more wet darkness, yet I feel
it's still a foolish place to fall.
YOU ARE READING
Never told Nursery Rhymes
PoetryAre these the sort of things you like, my dear? the stories and the rhymes that make you shake? are you the sort who seeks darkness and fear? I surely hope you are, for your own sake. In here you'll meet the fear who has a face, in here you'll feel...
