In this story I do bequeath;
A monster of mine who lives beneath;
If you wonder why in lyrical form I write;
It’s a choice, a decision, I don’t give a shite;
Nothing quite scares me more;
Than what I heard from my bedroom door;
Not a subtle tapping light;
But a scream that caused quite a fright;
It was shrill, caused unending dread;
A piercing sound that could wake the dead;
T’was not ghosts or goblins no;
But a familiar voice from down below;
For in my bedroom I was napping;
Let’s be honest, I was fapping;
In my head I was surely gone;
In this early hour, dawn;
Tending to my morning wood;
As growing boys surely should;
The wailing beast did startle me up;
I even knocked over a drinking cup;
Rushing to put on my undies tight;
Tucking my shame used all my might;
I knew what lay at the bottom stair;
A witch, a demon, who does not care;
Rubbing my eyes the morning crust scatters;
Beneath my feet I hear its clatters;
Sprinting to the shower I ran;
Faster than a moving fan;
Turning on the water so hot;
Take my time, surely not;
For when I step inside the tub;
There is no moment for proper scrub;
Toweling off done with haste;
For time was something I could not waste;
For at the bottom of the stairs;
Stood a creature without compares;
Wrapped in terry cloth so tight;
Her nest of snakes were quite a sight;
Below her crown, an icy stare did lay;
Don’t look, don’t listen, just run away;
To my room I quickly shot;
Avoiding nearly being caught;
Rushing to be ready fast;
I heard below the threats so cast;
Checking the time, with great fear;
What remained of my schedule, meager and mere;
Grabbing random clothes to wear;
If it matched, I did not care;
One final shout from the witch did come;
The banshee’s shriek did strike me numb;
With this final cast of breath;
The beast did threaten my very death;
In three words, I heard my names;
The pain it caused, it licked like flames;
The first of three it felt so light;
Flightier than a wayward kite;
The last of three, it hurt much more;
Nearly knocking me to the floor;
T’was the second of three that wrought dismay;
My skin so young, she sought to flay;
The middle name is never said;
It’s utterance only brings me dread;
How is it I could hope to fix;
The damage, the pain, an unholy mix;
The fear I feel is without comparison;
I must escape this ghastly garrison;
Quietly opening my bedroom door;
Knowing not what lay in store;
I do so fear she could be waiting;
Her wrath, her fury, an understating;
As I ran down the hall;
Left or right I don’t recall;
Free and clear I did feel glee;
Until I fell and scraped my knee;
A rush of pain befell my leg;
“Tears don’t fall,” I humbly beg;
To flee this menacing ghoul I must;
Ignore the danger, and act nonplussed;
The final door opened as planned;
I turn around to take my stand;
Above me still, the beast has spoken;
And hands me but a meager token;
As I close the door without a fuss;
I realized, “Crap!” I missed my school bus.