Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.143.4.96

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

He is here, my wife warned me. So put on your shirt.
Who is it? I asked. Not realizing it was him from the dirt.
I saw him at the coffee machine and I grimaced, turned blue. 
Frankenstein is worse in person than in theory I can tell you. 

He turned and his cover up make up did not fool me a bit.
You are the one I have been waiting for, he said, you are my hit.
I will kill you after breakfast, and maybe again after lunch.
I am going to Franken-size you, so I can kill you a bunch.

I could barely eat my eggs, I was so nervous and sad.
My wife was glaring at me. She was truly quite mad.
You are the one who kept worrying, she warned, angry for sure.
You conjured up this dead thing; why were you not more pure?

Hey, I said. If I can worry you in, can I worry you out? 
Frankenstein, the undead shook his head all about.
Too late now, he told me. Will it be axe or knife?
I ran like bells, leaving him alone with my wife.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required