Striking Terror!

Seasonal scribbling!

In honor of this scary time of year,

 

I thought I'd pen a monstrously-good

 

poem, but I can't, so this one will have to do:

 

a blood-covered zombie comes from out

 

of the nearby-graveyard to haunt your a*s,

 

well, actually, all  of you, but I think you know

 

what I mean; speaking of a*s, that's about

 

all the zombie sees of you, as you run away,

 

spooked out of your gourde (what exactly where is

 

a person's gourde located?), much like a scared guy

 

The zombie is pissed, because it's the one night

 

of the year; Halloween Night, when he can walk

 

the Earth, and freak people out.  Now, because

 

you ran away like a little girl, he'll have to wait

 

until next year; and, if next year he again scares

 

a puss like you, he'll be s**t-out-of-luck again!

That's it, my attempt at honoring the season;

 

Did I or did I not warn you not to expect too much?

 

 

Reviews

[Marie]

Michael, you lived up to my expectations.

I think "gourd" refers to the head...

[Michael Stevens]

Thanks Marie!