It isn't creepy monsters who slink out of closet doors,
or werewolves with ferocious growls, or ghosts on midnight tours.
It isn't grumpy goblins or the ghouls from ancient lores.
It isn't myths or legends that my timid heart deplores.
Tick...tock...tippy, tappy...tick...tock...
It's teensy-tinsy creatures that can scamper on all fours,
cavorting up and down the walls, and through the corridors.
Tick...tock...nibble, gnaw...tick...tock...
Their shrieks are shriller than a screaming banshee as it soars,
fangs sharper than a vampire's dripping red with bloody gores,
and gnawing skills more toxic than a zombie carnivore's,
Let's not forget the gremlin claws heard scratching up the floors.
Tick...tock...tippy, tappy, nibble, gnaw...tick...tock...
I tremble in my blankets when they interrupt my snores.
"It's just imagination." So my weary mind implores,
"Now, close your eyes and drift to sleep." But nothing reassures.
They sally forth to pillage, these bleak Mini Minotaurs,
to wreak both wrack and ruin as they plunder earthly stores.
Tick...tock...tippy, tappy, scritchy, scratch...tick...tock...
Thank goodness for the cat and nightly hunting she adores
as rodent murder tops her list of gruesome twilight chores.
Tick...tock...tick...tock
I know of no pied piper, who's the best of troubadours,
or any witch or wizard who can conjure magic cures
to make these vermin vanish and so rid me of their horrors.
Tick...tock...tippy, tappy, scritchy, scratch, nibble, gnaw...tick...tock...
I know it seems obsessive to be plotting mousy wars,
and scheming death for small gray beasts, both in and out of doors,
but it soothes my inner demons. Pray tell me--what are yours?
Tick...tock...tick...tock...
~~~~~~~~
