The Creeper by Mickayla Taulton

Where, where does it come from?

Where does it stay?

Where does it hide?

When it goes away.

Every twenty-three years,

On the twenty third day,

It gets to come out, it gets to eat,

It gets to hunt, it gets to feast.

It walks, it runs, it hops,

It even eats tongues from the mouths of cops.

It sniffs out the people,

That it wants something from.

It is very particular leaving not a crumb.

It fly’s, it drives, it lives in the skies.

It wears a wide brimmed hat,

Clothes and cape all in black.

It is all a perfect disguise,

For such a creature so wise.

No matter how many times,

People have tried,

It will lay on the road, and it will never die

Is it from some other world?

With two faces that fold in on each other,

Each just as terrifying,

With teeth to make one shudder.

It’s a cross between an upright walking reptile,

Absolutely hideous when it tries to smile.

With a hulk like size,

And fur with a tail.

With feet and hands sharp as nails,

So powerful they are able,

To dismember and disable.

Everything on this creature,

So terrifying, it’s surely from Hell.

How could this thing be anything?

But from where demons dwell.