he crawled to them with his laced-up boots they cringed unto their very roots who is this man, this image they think from hell
he crawled to them with his laced-up boots
they cringed unto their very roots
who is this man, this image they think from hell

They looked at him with scorn,
and truth betold they were afraid
the stranger in his black faded cloak
and damn his make-up from beyond the grave

he crawled to them with his laced-up boots
they cringed unto their very roots
who is this man, this image they think from hell?

he held out a hand, his fingernails were painted black
he pointed to one of them and that one thought:
‘Today I am going to hell….’

The stranger smiled an angelic smile
his black lipstick made them numb
the one, they thought of, as a satanic beast
spoke:

‘excuse me, I am thirsty and you are blocking the door to the shop’

was it a curse he said?
Nay
was it a blasphemous word?
nay I say

he was but a man dressed in black
a thirsty man at that
yet they fear what they do not conceive
and ran like baseball from a bat

I was that man in black
it was an incident most strange
I have never bitten a man
yet it seems things people do not understand
bites them in the butt

(c) 2014 allen simpson
dedicatedto all who thought that i will eat them

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