Friday the 13th is here.
There is nothing to fear.
My gargoyle friends are waiting.
Their stares are somewhat scathing.
But the night is still young.
The noose is already hung.
Bats fly around the old house.
They squeak like a little mouse.
Lightning sizzles as it plays.
Over the dark house, it stays.
Thunder rumbles in pain.
Loud noises but no rain.
The door opens wide.
There’s no place to hide.
We might as well go in.
Inside looks dark as sin.
THE DEAD GAME
No comments:
Post a Comment