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Provorse
— R
Published:
2011-06-02 05:18:17 +0000 UTC
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Description
[Original poem titled 'Vincent', by Tim Burton.....yes I nabbed it!]
R.I.Provorse is seven years old,
She's always polite and does what she's told.
For a girl her age she's considerate and nice,
But he wants to be just like Vincent Price.
She doesn't mind living with his sisters, dog and cats,
Though she'd rather share a home with spiders and bats.
There she could reflect on the horrors she's invented,
And wander dark hallways alone and tormented.
R.I.P is nice when her aunt comes to see her,
But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum.
She likes to experiment on her dog Abacrombie,
In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie.
So she and her horrible zombie dog,
Could go searching for victims in the London fog.
Her thoughts aren't only of ghoulish crime,
She likes to paint and read to pass some of the time.
While other kids read books like Go Jane Go,
R.I.P's favorite author is Edgar Allen Poe.
One night while reading a gruesome tale,
She read a passage that made her turn pale.
Such horrible news she could not survive,
For her beloved husband had been buried alive.
She dug out his grave to make sure he was dead,
Unaware that his grave was her father's flower bed.
Her father sent R.I.P off to her room,
She knew she'd been banished to the tower of doom.
While alone and insane, encased in her tomb,
R.I.P's father suddenly burst into the room.
He said, "If you want to you can go out and play.
It's sunny outside and a beautiful day."
R.I.P tried to talk, but she just couldn't speak,
The years of isolation had made him quite weak.
So she took out some paper, and scrawled with a pen,
"I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again!!"
Her father said, "You're NOT possessed, and you're NOT almost dead.
These games that you play are all in your head!
His anger now spent, he walked out through the hall,
While R.I.P backed slowly against the wall.
The room started to sway, to shiver and creak.
Her horrid insanity had reached its peak.
He saw Abacrombie her zombie slave,
And heard her husband call from beyond the grave.
He spoke from his coffin, and made ghoulish demands.
While through cracking walls reached skeleton hands.
Every horror in her life that had crept through her dreams,
Swept her mad laugh to terrified screams.
To escape the madness, she reached for the door,
But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor.
Her voice was soft and very slow,
As she quoted The Raven from Edgar Allen Poe,
"And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor,
Shall be lifted....Nevermore!"
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