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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Contest Entry · #2051179
Written for the Supernatural Writing Contest
I ate a miniature quiche
And walked around the crowded place,
It was a fancy party; a niche
For the rich, not the poor: my case

I drank many flutes of champagne
People talking overlooking a bay,
Buffet tables aligned like a train
This is not me, should I walk away?

I wasn't bad, just a flirt
I liked young men and hunted them
I searched for names like Ben and Bert
They were calm, like blue stem

I thought my Jimmy Choo knockoffs hurt
And my head drifted, was I dizzy?
I do remember dancing with sweet looking Burt
So why was my voice sounding so fizzy?

A narrow staircase down the hall
A dark force grabbed my body,
I steadied myself against the wall
I saw him, he looked so gaudy

His red eyes down on mine
Made me think of hell and fire,
I knew then it was a bad sign
I swear, I am not a liar

I awoke at the bottom of a lake
My poor dress, floating up white laces,
It's a pity, I didn't have a piece of his cake
All I see now are twisted faces

An orange moon shining upon me
Disembodied, I left as clouds of vapor
Then, horrified, I tried to flee
Because an eerie voice said: Hello Ms Caper.




Word count: 222



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