#1
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Penny Dreadful - the poem
Got another kid's poem for you. Actually wrote this one two years ago (it was the one that started my latest obsession with creepy kid's poems) and I was saving it - but now their's a movie coming out with the same title. CRAP!
Here it is, hope you like it. --------------------------------------------------- Penny Dreadful Penny was a little girl, no more than nine years old But she had the devil in her; least that’s what I’m told. The other girls all hated Penny, they teased her every day Because dark clouds blacked out the sun when Penny came to play. While the other girls drew ponies and rainbows on their books Penny dreamt of guillotines and piercing flesh with hooks. After school when all the kids would run to play outside Penny slipped into her crypt to sharpen up her knives. Her shelves were lined with remnants of experiments gone awry Dogs and bats and toads and cats rearranged and left to die. She flipped the switch, electrodes cracked and in walked Penny’s Mother She shrieked “You cut that out right now! Untie your baby brother!” In her cauldron Penny brewed a potion vile and green And slipped it in the thermos of “Miss Perfect” Lizzy Dean. Lizzy gagged and coughed and wheezed and then came something worse Her hair turned white and all fell out as she ran crying to the nurse. Penny was expelled from school and sent to see a shrink They locked her in a rubber room and left her there to think. And in that room her madness grew, she dreamt of blood and gore Her nights were filled with witches, monsters, demons and much more. She played it sweet and dressed in pink, the doctors all believed her Penny returned the very next and hacked them with a cleaver. Then to the school her fury turned and the classrooms all ran red It took two dozen dentists to identify the dead. Baby brother danced and spun as Penny dropped the blade She couldn’t help but giggle at the mess his blood had made. Father slipped into her grip and Penny’s cleaver dropped And turning to her mother, whispered “Just one more, then I’ll stop.”
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"Little, vicious minds abound with anger and revenge, and are incapable of feeling the pleasure of forgiving their enemies." Earl of Chesterfield "A man that studieth revenge keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal and do well." Francis Bacon |
#2
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Man, I gotta say: I love these poems. I like how this one sort of turned around at the end, got alot more grisly (sp?)
Keep up the good work:D
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"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness." - Friedrich Nietzsche |
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