Hello out there,
To those who care,
Let me please introduce,
Master Bruce,
The celebrated ghost,
With a unique flair,
For inflicting Scare.
He is just typical,
For one of his kind,
What is above average though,
Is his mind,
But yea,
As far as looks go,
He is kind of wispy,
And white as new fallen snow.
Not old at all,
As he was young when he took,
That fatal fall,
Yet he feels older than dirt,
For it’s been a hundred years and more,
Since he went out,
With one last painful roar.
Now death is not usually lonely,
But when you are left to hover,
And cannot cross over,
To those shores called Glory,
You will discover,
It is a different story.
*************************
Some years past now,
There lived a marvelous up-and-coming gentleman,
Whose life seemed to come together,
With nary a hitch,
It made his fellows envious,
How he didn’t need to earn his chow,
By the sweat of his brow,
This privileged person,
Was of course,
Our Master Bruce.
There came an evening,
When he was but twenty-four,
That he felt a need,
To be out-of-doors,
And he decided to go for it,
Despite the nasty down-pour,
Happening out there.
He took precautions,
Wearing slicker and galoshes,
But nothing can compensate,
If it is your fate,
And the hour being late,
When he went to dodge that horseless carriage,
He could not see,
That the roadside there,
Had been washed away,
So here he tripped,
Landing on his knees,
Then another automobile came by,
And his body was clipped,
Just as he was rising.
He whooped in pain,
But the driver never heard it,
On account of the rain,
So he continued on,
And within minutes,
Bruce’s life here was gone.
*************************
Key word there being ‘here’,
Because his body was done for,
But lo,
His spirit was stuck,
And never went anywhere.
*************************
It took some time,
For him to see it was true,
He was now a part of the world,
In which he had never believed,
He’s now one of,
The paranormal crew.
He didn’t like it a bit,
And developed into something malevolent,
The things he did,
Were downright awful,
For instance,
When he made an engine fail,
And sent a car,
Over the rail.
*************************
There came a time,
About 1949,
That the Nightmare King,
Caught wind of him,
And decided he would be an asset,
A perfect vessel,
To carry his Dreams Of Threats.
It was great,
For a time,
Delivering these Scares,
Being the cause,
Of raising hairs,
By giving people nightmares.
But he’s starting to see now,
Just how long eternity is,
And dishing out nightmares,
Has become to him,
So unimaginative.
He’s becoming restless,
And of late when it storms,
He’s been returning to the site,
That still fills him with spite.
Now without fail,
You can hear him wail,
While he paces,
Back and forth,
Slow and steady,
Like a snail.
*************************
Now what’ll he do,
To fill the endless hours,
Of his afterlife?
Will he turn even more sour,
And try to possess,
Evil powers?
Dare we hope,
He will turn from strife,
And pick up something civil,
Such as playing the fife?
Original Poems And Short Stories 