The Crypt Poem by Phil Soar

The crypt where we would visit in my youth was dark and damp
We cycled to it during breaks in our school summer camp
The church itself majestic, but below it, ghostly cast
We used to sit as groups of boys to see how long we'd last

Just above us people lay asleep for ever more
We sat in utter silence on a cold and damp stone floor
And each of us was scared and even though we couldn't see
We thought of ghosts and ghoulies and if we should really flee

Those days when we played silly games and sat among the dead
Would maybe have been better spent asleep in a warm bed
But as in unrestricted youth we had to test our fate
And visit that disturbing place and sit until it's late