Christmas is a time for scares,
For spooky stories on the stairs,
For pranks and jokes and tricks and dares,
I have a dare for you.
In a lonely thicket by a shed,
Sits an empty house of gingerbread,
Where old men say they hear the dead,
Wailing the whole night through.
They say a witch once lived inside,
But fell into the well and died,
And from her spirit none can hide,
She lurks in the hallways too.
Down in the village, I've heard tell,
Of a grey ghoul in the house as well,
They say he walks the grounds with a bell,
And a bowl of eyeball stew.
At night on the basement floor of mud,
Coffin lids open with a sticky thud,
And their owners dine on reindeer blood,
And boiled caribou.
I would not wish to wander there,
Where the Christmas horrors fill the air,
But you look brave, so here's the dare,
Go see if the tales are true.
Comments about this poem (A Dare by Leland D'Elormie )
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