Goth In A Gothic Poem by David Welch

She was the type who dressed only in darks,
a ‘non-conformist' teen who bathed in snark,
in black lipstick her smile did hide,
row of piercings ran above her eyes.

Her family came in October to my inn,
a bed-and-breakfast in a Victorian,
early fall I made it over into
a classic Gothic house, for a scare of two.

It was a lot of fun, so said our guests,
the town said my Haunted House was the best,
but as the goth walked in, looked from her phone,
she rolled her eyes hard and let out a groan.

She went to my mummy, Ammon-Hotap,
said, "How much toilet paper went into that? "
Seeing my Dracula, she laughed and proclaimed:
"He's been done to death, so tired and tame."

My bell-hop dressed himself as Wolf-man,
with the family's baggage, he gave a hand,
she went up to him as he was working,
said, "Dude, for your sake, the big box is hiring."

I bit back a strong urge to choke the runt,
or call her a bad name that rhymed with ‘bunt, '
so I faked a smile, went to help too,
said, "Right this way folks, I'll show you your rooms."

After I had the parents settled in,
I asked the goth girl, "Do you need anything? "
She gave me a look, said, "Before you go,
I need the WiFi password, for my phone."

I shrugged and said, "We won't have internet."
And she let out a shriek that awoke the dead!
Never before had I heard such a scream,
it was probably heard by half the county.

All the ghosts and goblins did not do the trick,
but you take the gadgets, it gets scary quick.
I guess next year I'll have to change the display,
to reflect what terrifies the kids these days.