By moonlit nights, I prowl with grace,
No mirror shows my pale, sharp face.
Stake through heart? Please, not today—
I dodge those stakes and run away.
Garlic bread? You think I'll drool?
I've got a stash behind the stool.
Sunlight's foe? A mild complaint,
Sunscreen 50 is my saint.
I drink your blood, but don't take fright—
It's just a snack to get...
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