My neighbour is
a werewolf
Who only comes
out at night
He buries bones
in his garden
Then runs back
inside at first light
The back of his
hands are hairy
His teeth are jagged
and stained
And he never
wears trainers or slippers
Cause his feet
are as big as a train
His drool is as
sticky as treacle
And hangs like a
thick silver thread
That sticks to
his hair like adhesive
And makes it
stand up on end
His eyes are
crimson and juicy
Like apples on
Halloween
He likes to
growl at spooky things
That nobody else
can see
When the moon is
full and shiny
He’ll sit on his
fence and howl
And occasionally
grab a neighbourhood cat
To eat as he
goes on the prowl
If you look
through his window you’ll see him
Sound asleep on
the floor
His eyelids
rolling like marbles
His feet
twitching down to his claws
When the postman
delivers his letters
He throws them
over the gate.
He remembers his
friend the milkman
Who hasn’t been
seen since last May.
My Daddy says
that I am silly
That werewolves
just do not exist
But I’ve seen
his big bushy tail
Disappear in the
cold morning mist.
I tell my
friends when I see them
Of what I have
witnessed next door
Of how Mr
Beacher is more than a teacher;
He’s a werewolf!
Of that I am sure.
I know that he’s
bald and wears glasses
And I know that
he doesn’t eat meat
But beneath this
disguise I know it’s all lies
Cause I’ve seen
him out roaming the streets
So now when we
sit in the classroom
We make sure we
never talk back
We don’t mess
around or make silly sounds
Or he’ll eat us
all up as a snack.
