06-17-2013, 03:11 PM
So I tried an experiment with a somewhat unusual rhyme scheme.
Then i blatantly broke it with the last lines of the first and last verses. On top of that, what I meant as an amusing little nursery rhyme some people took more seriously. Still, I have an affection for the little bastard.
(title from a Stephen King character)
The Trashcan Man
A funny little trashcan man walked into town one day
and in his wake - the ashes.
a little line of ashes
and a tiny trail of matches
stretched. . . far and away.
The children teased and mocked him, and awaited his replies
but from him, not a sound was heard.
despite their taunts no sound was heard.
and tho' he spoke no single word
flames flickered in his eyes!
The people of the town spoke out. "This stranger cannot stay!"
Said they, "You may remain the night",
"We'll suffer you to stay the night,
but know you, come the morning light
you must be on your way".
But night-time never came that eve', nor twilight lay so sweet.
Instead came forth the fires of Hell.
the screaming, scalding fires of Hell
of burning wood, there came the smell
and the smell of burning meat.
A funny little trashcan man danced out of town next day
behind a path of ashes
A smoldering swath of ashes
and a tiny trail of matches
stretched. . . far and away.
Then i blatantly broke it with the last lines of the first and last verses. On top of that, what I meant as an amusing little nursery rhyme some people took more seriously. Still, I have an affection for the little bastard.
(title from a Stephen King character)
The Trashcan Man
A funny little trashcan man walked into town one day
and in his wake - the ashes.
a little line of ashes
and a tiny trail of matches
stretched. . . far and away.
The children teased and mocked him, and awaited his replies
but from him, not a sound was heard.
despite their taunts no sound was heard.
and tho' he spoke no single word
flames flickered in his eyes!
The people of the town spoke out. "This stranger cannot stay!"
Said they, "You may remain the night",
"We'll suffer you to stay the night,
but know you, come the morning light
you must be on your way".
But night-time never came that eve', nor twilight lay so sweet.
Instead came forth the fires of Hell.
the screaming, scalding fires of Hell
of burning wood, there came the smell
and the smell of burning meat.
A funny little trashcan man danced out of town next day
behind a path of ashes
A smoldering swath of ashes
and a tiny trail of matches
stretched. . . far and away.
