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Image for the poem Little Bo Peep

Little Bo Peep

Has anyone seen my sheep  
They slipped away when I was sleep    
They all have my demonic mark on their back    
I told them not to step upon land of that nosey kitty cat    
She is now on to us    
And she is making a huge fuss    
She thinks I am nuts    
But    
    
Can she really say I am insane    
When I bring false pleasure to the brain
Knowing I am blue if no one remembers my name
Giving my sheep the lunacy of my twisted games    
She knows our address and where we all live    
Who we are, what we look like, and what poison to the mind we give    
Our ruse is coming into the light    
As we roam the graveyards looking for lost spirits at night    
     
Picking the weak ones who have no ideal      
Seducing them, blinded them by our words to give them a mental thrill      
Singing our siren alluring songs    
Knives we hold behind our back when we are alone    
Hacking hearts, drinking their blood, begging souls to mate with us as we roam    
When the moon is full in the blue sky    
Our horns grow, out razor-sharp tails get longer, acute red eyes, prowling, as we whisper to the males our seductive lullabies    
     
Have you seen my wandering sheep, they are known to be their own cheering section    
Adorations that grace earth, forged by me, as I. without hesitation    
Madame X soothing souls without regrets while she keeps your loins wet    
Tom Sawyer searching for Huckleberry Finn, letting you in on my secrets once he lets you in    
Olivia Newton John using her tub to wash the Grease off John Travolta’s skin    
The intimacy of Her and Him a testimony of fate is where my mental sickness begins    
They say Blondes really do have fun    
No truer than a Swan gliding across the lake ducking her head in cold water before the rise of the sun    
One twenty eight by the chimes of the clock    
The pagan hour according to each tick tock    
     
Each of my sheep have a poetic square on lock    
Fool's paradise as they patrol    
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe    
Part their thighs as the stench of death starts to flow    
If they leave you before you awake    
The bloody heart of yours they would take    
     
Poem Based On The Nursery Rhyme Little Bo Peep    
     
#DarkNurseryRhymes
Written by SweetKittyCat5
Published
Author's Note
Horror is like a serpent; always shedding its skin, always changing. And it will always come back. It can't be hidden away like the guilty secrets we try to keep in our subconscious.

Dario Argento
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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