In the creepy darkness
where spiderwebs reside -
where every step could be your last
with no one by your side -
When strange and eerie noises
send a shiver up your spine -
and nasty little poems like this
start running through your mind -
When trusty flashlights fail you
and your bulb’s completely dim -
when your heart is pounding faster
than a banjo flavored hymn -
Take note my sweaty comrade
in the mysteries of fate –
I have tampered with the little clock
the spider – he’ll be late.
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