Stuffed

The taxidermist
Told me he’d fix it
To look like Tiddles was eating a biscuit
But I didn’t like the sound of that
For my dearly departed pussy cat
And when I mentioned he’d been quite plump
“The price goes up the bigger the rump”
So I told him to stuff it
Just not too much
More a discreetly padded touch
But I wasn’t so sure about those eyes
They didn’t appear to be the same size
And surely the colour should have been the same
As the beautiful boy in his photo frame
Now instead of the comfort I though it would bring
It gives me the horrors the creepy thing
I don’t think he cared
Was just after my cash
So I’m off to get Tiddles turned into ash

The Eternity Ring

I’ve waited an eternity for eternity to set me free
Now patiently behind the glass
The midnight strike is nearly passed
The candle flickers then grows strong
I start to feel like I belong
I press my hand against the frame
My one true love has called my name
Fleetingly she now appears
Eyes heavy with her unshed tears
Still beautiful despite years passed
Eleven since I breathed my last
She cries she’ll never love again
Her heart is broken
Too much pain
In return I promise her
I’ll never break this spirit curse
I’ll wait for an eternity
Till our true love can set us free
And onward bound our souls shall soar
My true love by my side once more
The candle flickers one last time
To coincide with midnights chime
In haunting gloom I’m now returning
To my eternal spirits yearning

Living nightmare

Raining, maiming, beating down,

I run as soon as I see the clown.

Froze in my bed I make no sound,

But still his hateful fists they pound!

What had I done to earn my fate,

Provoke his rage and fuel his hate?

My muffled tears I softly weep,

Given way to fitful sleep,

My dreams no comfort offer me,

I spy his shadow, try to flee,

Haunting, taunting filled with glee,

I run through the dawn before I’m  free…

I waken, shaken, bruised and sore,

look around my room once more.

Then I see that hateful clown,

Who spent the night chasing me down,

Sitting sweetly on the shelf,

Nothing like his nightime self.

He’s been this way since my childhood,

I’ve often thrown him out for good,

But back he comes everytime,

To continue his haunting twilight crimes.

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horror clown

clown doll