30 lines: a poem |
One night before bed I made a bet with a friend That on Ole Halrold's grave a whole night I would spend But I forgot I was going Until nine hours of showing Horror movies to myself, with hair standing on end I did not dare quit for I was a man of my word Up the hill I marched when along came a bird That flapped in my face Forced to whack it with Mace And spit my guts out when I tasted its turd The night was still young when I reached Ole Harry My buddy, ole friend, did not dilly or dally He left with a bound Barely making a sound Promising to return when it wasn't so scary Alone in the dark with tombstones all around I started to see things that weren't around Poltergeists popped by While the zombies did spy I chilled at the howl of the Baskervilles hound I cried to myself 'Oh! Let me live through the night' A cold hand touched me, a caress so slight It was Harrold Gambini Dressed in french bikini Over a goofy tutu made of hot pink and white I collapsed out cold from seeing a ghost Never had I believed and now I can boast By daybreak I'll leave Behind All Hallow's Eve Collect on my bet and drink Ole Harry a toast
Day 4 - Prompt: getting too scared LIMMERICK time! |