The Hermit

Here's a tale that I've been told
That will last til the very end
A stranger is only a stranger
Until he becomes your friend

Long, long ago, there lived a man
Who never came out of his house
He had no family to call his own
No children nor even a spouse 

Some people called him a hermit
While others just called him insane
He must have been made of money
For he had no means to gain

He never bothered anyone
He just wanted to be left alone
He had no modern day gadgets
Not even a telephone

Each night they heard him wailing
It was a madman's mornful cry
A candle lit, the darkend room
Til the morning sun grew nigh

A plan was hatched to rob the man
By three kids about seventeen
But they had no way of knowing
That they'd never again be seen

A curse was placed upon the house
By a woman who died within
Her ghost now haunts the man inside
And all who enter in

They said the woman was surely a witch
So they sealed her soul inside
And there she stayed, all alone
Until the day she died

They say she died of loneliness
She had no family to grieve
So when a stranger enters in
She will never let them leave

I'll remind you what I told you 
Before this story can end
A stranger is only a stranger
Until he becomes a friend
Copyright © | Year Posted 2010

Poem

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Culverhouse Avatar
May 18, 2010 at 10:47 AM
enjoyed reminds me of a neighborhood story I heard on the radio. they were not very neighboorly.
Taylor Avatar
May 18, 2010 at 8:45 AM
Excellent tale, Larry eerie but excellent.
Green Avatar
May 18, 2010 at 8:37 AM
Excellent, Larry! Another one! Loved it.
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