Walking down the street

A trail of ooze by his feet

Leading to places unknown

No weapon on him,

He was covered in black

Only his bloodshot eyes shown

 

Joe was walking through his neighborhood 

A place where nothing was good.

He looked down the street, adjusting his hood

He walked past tentacles crawling up a house (i’m sorry but it’s true)

Sometimes they would grab people, and squeeze them till they were blue.

His neighborhood was an odd one, yes indeed.

 

There were lots of strange things, and many mouths to feed.

Joe walked past his cousins house, the grown ups howling at the door,

Looking for the helpless kids inside, crying on the floor.

There was nothing Joe could do, the kids would end up dead,

So he hurried past, running fast, in an attempt to save his head.

 

He walked passed the old car, it’s interior filled with flies,

Because everyone knew, whoever crawls in dies.

This was Joes neighborhood he was stuck here

Now he had to hurry home, because the end was coming near.