I love to write a dark creepy poem now and again.
It helps being Catholic.
Just think of all the good and simply reverse it.
And Bob's your uncle!
Your dark creepy uncle.
Who on the stroke of midnight.
Disappears outside into the woodshed.
What's he up to?
What's he hiding?
And why did he take the knife sharpener? ...
There I go again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem