Teeth

Teeth

When I was just a child on Fillmore Street,
my friends and I went out to trick or treat.
Our parents told us, "Kids, you must beware
of strangers in the dark that you may meet."

Defying folks, we traipsed without a care,
through crackling leaves 'til Doug uttered this dare:
"Why don't we knock on Old Man Bider's door,
it's sure to give you chicken shits a scare."

Oh sure, we'd heard the frightful tales before;
A sinister old man, a carnivore,
lived in that spooky house upon the hill,
and dined on human soup of blood and gore.

I shuddered as we neared our destined thrill.
An icy wind around my neck brought chill,
its evil fingers driving me insane,
but still we lurked in shadow's midst, until....

A snap of brittle twig unleashed my brain,
and I let loose a howl I can't explain-
a gust of fear released into the night.
My foot was firmly caught in Bider's chain.

I saw my friends, like startled bats in flight,
take off, as I was dragged away from sight.
Inside, I cowered on the floor and stared;
my heartbeats pumping breathless gulps of fright.

My captor's evil eyes, upon me, glared.
Behind his snarling lips, sharp teeth were bared.
Like shiny razor blades, there was no doubt,
they'd slice right through my tender brain, so scared.

Constricting on my neck, his grip was stout.
I gagged as slime oozed from his mouth and snout.
And as he bent to take a little nip,
to my surprise, his phony teeth dropped out.

His dentures slashed right through his lower lip,
and as he cursed in pain he lost his grip.
I heard him shouting, in my quick retreat,
"Estella! Where's my fricking Polygrip?"

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word count: 295