poetry

no eyes, always watching

​the daytime ends, and town bells chime

all good children get in line

one by one and two by two

the Slender Man will come for you

a tall, pale man without a face

fresh, young lives will be erased

his plain black suit is hard to see

as he strides quickly through the trees

do not quiver, do not shake

your precious, tiny hands he’ll take

leading you into the woods

he’ll pat your head, you’ve been so good

his hard, white hands will beckon so,

with claws just like a carrion crow

between the trees you’ll run and skip

into his sacks you’ll lightly trip

tied up in a bag you’ll rest

until he hungers for your flesh

then out into the light you’ll come

and live until his meal is done

do not fight him, do not scream

you’ll never waken from this dream

now close your eyes and count to ten

we’ll never hear your voice again

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