Sunday, November 7, 2010

A Murder

They dragged him away
From his roots--his home,
And dropped him on
A huge slab of stone.

They topped off his head
With two quick cuts,
Then poked out his eyes
As they ripped out his guts.

With a poke in the nose,
And a few in the jaw,
They shoved a hot spark
Inside of his maw.

Now the fire glows
From inside of his head,
And poor Jack
Is dead, dead, dead.


Delirious said...

lol cute :)

Inklings said...

That is cute - did you write it, too?

Stick said...

Yes, I wrote this too

Nene said...

You're just a poet and I didn't know it. :0) Really cute!

Stick said...

It was the Friday before Halloween, and we were in a training meeting. I was bored stiff, so started thinking about the upcoming celebrations. I wondered what the pumpkins thought about the whole thing. (Kinda says something about my thought processes doesn't it).