The thing

8 0 0
                                    


It sits in the long grass

It's black long skin covered away

The thing seems quite still

Acting as nothing will

Happen, it does not of course

I wonder what would have been if

I have landed on it

Stepped on it would I surely meet my doom

I run, run, crying towards my room

The thing we never found out

Scales like no other

Slimy not shiny

Black long and thick, it's body

It seemed to have no mother

A yellow stripe painted across the faceless thing

It stayed king of the hill surely

We moved away

All I can say

Is I wish I knew what the thing was to this day

The thingWhere stories live. Discover now