They said my Halloween poem needs to be deep,
They said it also should be dark.
But how can I embrace this poetic style,
How can I produce a poem so bleak and stark?
I had an idea, so I went into the garden,
Then found myself my spade.
If I wanted to become deep and dark,
Then a hole needed to be made.
Then once dug I began,
Into the deep dark hole I leapt.
To hopefully compose,
A deep dark poem I expect.
All I found in the hole was dirt,
Mind you it was certainly deep and dark.
I passed the time by teasing a mole,
Then I annoyed a worm for a lark.
But despite being brave and bold,
I was no closer to poetry.
All I was getting was cold,
Plus soggy jeans up to my knees.
So I decided right there and then,
That today deep dark poetry wasn’t for me.
So I went back to bed,
But I didn’t fill in the hole you see.
I thought if I ever need inspiration,
Then back in the hole I’ll go.
To hopefully write a Halloween poem,
If I do you’ll be the first to know.