Fright, a pretty monster

A spur-of-the-moment poem about fright.

A pretty little monster, who I like to call fright,

Shall come around every time of day and afternoon and night,

She'll freeze you if you hesitate,

She'll bite you when you think you're great,

She'll worm her way right into your head,

And haunt you 'til you're dead.

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed