The Monster From Forest Drive
A monster lived at forest edge,
Right at the end of Forest Drive,
His neighbors chose to lock their doors,
If they wished to stay alive.
Both his wings had been broken,
With a cane he could hardly walk,
He didn’t look mean or scary,
But he could talk real monster talk.
There were rumors he lived in the basement,
Others said the attic was his home,
He was often seen on cloudy days,
And at night he chose to roam.
He shuffles, he stumbles,
As he howls at the moon,
He is sure to catch one of you,
If he’s not caught real soon.
No one knew where he came from,
He suddenly appeared one day,
The neighborhood was upset he was there,
Because he took their place to play.
Their meeting place had been at forest edge,
Where their bonfires often lit the sky,
He built his house on their spot,
Without telling them his reason why.
He snorts, he chuckles,
He’s covered with blood and gore,
Waiting for the lights to go off,
He stands quietly by the door.
The witches of the cul-de-sac,
Stirred up a powerful brew,
They thought their potion lethal,
But he said, “Thank you. I’ll have two.”
To their surprise he took a sip,
Without losing his feeble mind,
There seemed to be no aftereffects,
Except the foot he dragged behind.
He shuffles, he stumbles,
As he howls at the moon,
He is sure to catch one of you,
If he’s not caught real soon.
Blood-red wine was his favorite drink,
And bones he chewed for lunch,
All thought his manners were impeccable,
Royal blood would be their hunch.
One dark night they gathered,
To discuss his solitary ways,
He had made them all uncomfortable,
For five years, two months, and ten days.
He snorts, he chuckles,
He’s covered with blood and gore,
Waiting for the lights to go off,
He stands quietly by the door.
In a large casket they sealed him,
No more to see the light,
Security police accidently let him loose,
And he slipped quietly into the night.
Somewhere in this vast country,
He was last seen entering a town,
Hunters of all kinds searched the woods,
But no monster could be found.
He shuffles, he stumbles,
As he howls at the moon,
He is sure to catch one of you,
If he’s not caught real soon.
He snorts, he chuckles,
He’s covered with blood and gore,
Waiting for the lights to go off,
He stands quietly by the door.