Scarecrow

Something horrible happened seven years ago. My town was terrorized by my evil scarecrow. My scarecrow was the victim of a witch's curse. It took me over a year to get the spell reversed. My scarecrow ate all of the crows in my crops. My scarecrow was blood thirsty and didn't stop. It started killing people, it even bit off my father's head. My dad stumbled around for a minute and fell over dead. People shot it and used flamethrowers but it wasn't even phased. It killed three hundred people during its blood thirsty craze. I stopped it with a passage that I found in a voodoo book. I spoke the incantation and that was all it took. It was great when I stopped it in its tracks. But the victims it killed can't be brought back. If you have a scarecrow, you'd better stay awake. While you sleep, you may be the first victim that it takes. (THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.)