Creature

Grotesque fangs Crimson eyes hunched over, it stares Pounds of fur for skin Wicked grin on all fours, it stares The creature, beware The creature, it still stares "What is it looking at?" I think. I move to the left, then swiftly to the right For the creature that stares, has its eyes on me tonight. To scared to move To mesmerized to look The creature stares at me Daring me to run. Above, in the clouds A flame peeks through " Its morning time for me, and back to hell for you." I say to the creature thats still. A puff of smoke, and the creature is gone. I'm standing alone Nothing but a mirror is shown But how could it be? Is the creature really me? ---[ SKITZ ]--- 2008