Moving Out
I have a funny house
There's lots of things to hide
If you really dare
You can take a peek inside
The scary, dusty room
That is right under the stairs
You can open the door
Only if you dare
Take a look under the crack
Go on, I doubt it'll hurt
Just ignore the scary creeks
And the dust and flecks of dirt.
Sure, at day it looks fine
No noise, no shadows, no haunt
But come a littler later
And the voices they will taunt.
They'll tell you to come in
And have a little see
Of the things that happen there
Oh goodness, brave you must be.
There's a man inside the room
He wears shackles and chains
And has a groaning laugh
And shows a lot of pain.
His arms have lots of cuts
And bruises and gross stitches
He looks like he's been in wars
And lots of bumps and ditches.
His hair is greasy black
And his eyes are misty white
Careful, watch his golden teeth
I think he could really bite.
In the night he moans
And hides beneath the stairs
And pounces upon anyone
Who enters inside his lair.
Can you please scare him
Or tell him to go away
He can find another house
Because I cannot stay
Tell him that it's my house
And that I pay the bills
And he doesn't have right
To murmur that he'll kill.
If you don't get him out,
I'm going to go
I can't stand his evil eyes
And the way he walks so slow.
If I go there tonight
And he is crouched on the floor
With his evil grin and evil eyes
I won't live here anymore.
YOU ARE READING
It's Just a Poetry Book
PoetryA book I update as much as I can with poems written by me. Often written during boring classes or at half past eleven at night when everyone is sleeping and the only thing awake are my thoughts bouncing from wall to wall. Please comment any critici...
