| A Morbid Child |
| A morbid child with hair gone wild And teeth like snaggled fences Became obsessed and snowy tressed And sought distorted senses With cloak of black and cloven track He slinks through brightest day Out searching shadows, lairs of widows Places light won't stay He likes such places, cobweb traces Caves where none should be He looks for niches, nooks all rich With shadows neath the trees. Would he be right to walk at night? And never day embark? But night in day's the only way For one who fears the dark. -Unknown |
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| Poetry- (alphabetical order by last name of author) |
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