It's just a childs, rubber ball
That was carried down the street.
Out of that gutter, you hear him call,
In a voice so deathly sweet.
Come for it, you want it right?
Just reach down, and pick it up.
But it's dark down there, so dark,
There's not a ray of light.
I see it now, a painted face,
And horrible razor fangs.
Whats that ball doing in this place,
Why do I see these things?
I don't want to float, down in the gloom,
Where the rain runs to the sea.
Wet slippery walls just like a tomb,
That's where a clown will be?
Oh lighten up give it a rest
Too many horror flicks.
It's this old brain just making jests,
Scaring up some deep dark tricks.
Thanks a lot Stephen King you creep,
I can't even walk my dog in peace.
In bright day light or while I sleep,
I'm always ill at ease.
7/15/2018
Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the words Juan, and your pictures are incredibly good.