Rate my poem and I will give you MUFFINS!!!

[Insanity is your Friend]

Well to disillusion you my social worker wanted me to write her a "non morbid" poem. she gave me three rules 1. It had to have a kitten in it, 2. It had to have butterflies, and 3. Neither the kitten nor the butterflies could die. Here is my completed Poem and please don't steal my poem. Well enjoy the poem! Oh and please feel free to coment.

Man Without a Name.
By Daniel "Ollie" Speedone.


A young man sat on a forgotten grave and lost in thought he pondered.
A butterfly flew on by it's purpose he deeply wondered.
It's wings were black and spackled red with fear he could now tell.
The butterfly at which he gazed was an omen sent from hell.
Then from the east the forgotten east there came a hungry howl.
The call was shrill the the sound could kill it's intention deep and foul.
The man jumped up, up off the stone and ran towards the west.
To him it seemed a light there gleamed, this way he thought was best.
A chill then came as day grew cold, it filled his heart with fright.
He set his run towards the setting sun for soon it would be night.
whence nightfall came the man delayed but just to catch his breath.
And in his eyes were butterflies and scenes of gruesome death.
The mans heart began to race, his future cold and bare.
He turned his wig when snapped a twig to meet the monsters stare.
At first sight the man did wince, his pride sorely bitten.
His run in the night and all his fright was spawned from just a kitten.
But the man could not amount himself to leave it here alone.
It's crime exempt, he then attempt to take the creature home.
But the kit it snarled and with a hiss it leaped into the air.
It took three claws which cut like saws then simply wasn't there.
The man stepped back, grabbed his throat and tried in vain to yell.
There came no breath, embracing death then slowly back he fell.
No one ever found the man but to this there is little shame.
For here there died a man not tried. A man without a name.

Please note this is not false advertising. When I wrote this I was in fact in an insane asylum, Myer 4 of the Johns Hopkins Psyciatric Division to be exact...  

[FlyfreeIzzie]

It has a rather morbid appeal. I like it quite a bit even though I'm not sure exactly why. Maybe it kept me drawn in and close... wanting to know what would happen next in the wanderings of your mind.....

Thank you for sharing this  

[sara-ane]

Very nicely done. I'm curious about the wig though.