In the dead of night, a stray creature walks the streets. Lurking in the shadows, watching it's prey skitter about on the cement sidewalks. The prey have narrow noses and long tails that stretch to at least a foot. Grey with battered fur, and gnarly claws, and sharp, bucked teeth that can naw through wood.
Moonlight is shining high above, and the air is bitingly chilly. This does not bother the creature. It wears a long, shiny black coat that shimmers in the moonlight with elegance. It keeps it warm through the coldest of bitter nights. It's glowing eyes always watching for what is next to come its way.
The prey is close.
All is silent, sans for the autumn leaves that scape across the ground, adrift with the wind, or the occasional squeak that comes from the small little prey. The creature pounces, sinking its pointed teeth into the poor little creature as it cries out in fear.
It's dead in moments, blood trickling out of the puncture wounds around its neck. It's eyes remain open— an empty look inside them.
The creature eats tonight.
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Unprofessional Poems
PoetryJust poems that were written by a teenager who does really know what she's doing. Please read. I promise they're not terrible- just unprofessional, and sometimes kind of angsty.
