PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

A long, long time ago in the dead of night,

I was awakened by a beam of light.

Standing there at the side of my bed

was the most terrible thing. I just knew I was dead.

It stood seven feet tall and was cloaked in black.

It stood there and glared. I couldn't look back.

It had hands as big as melons. I knew they would not tickle,

And in one of them it held a sickle.

The sickle was long and sharp and dripping blood.

That's when the voice said, "You're acting the fool, bud."

The voice was like ice. It would freeze a fire.

It said, "I'm going through your neck like a piece of wire."

I hollered and yelled, cried and moaned; rolled over in bed.

I waited for the chop that would take my head.

Then I felt his weight on the edge of the bed.

The voice said, "I must rest. At such a fast pace,

I've been chopping off heads all over the place."

I had to try. I knew it was dumb.

I said, "Who are you and why have you come?"

He glared down at me and said with a sigh,

"I've come here, you fool, because you must die."

I asked him one question and only one.

"Do you chop people just for fun?"

"I am the Fool Killer," he thundered, "You called me to you.

I've come to kill you for acting the fool."

I begged and pleaded and finally said,

"Just one more chance before you chop off my head."

He glared long and hard before he said,

"Act the fool just once more and, boy, you are dead."

He left then and, I hoped, for good.

It was many years later before I understood.

I had grown up and married and thought doing nice,

And then one night I heard that voice of ice.

He came in the night as he had before.

He came in the room without window or door.

He glared down at me and shook his head.

"You've acted the fool and this time you are dead."

I think I know now why I didn't shake.

I knew that this time there was too much at stake.

I looked up at him and said with a grin,

I guess you don't know that you're talking to Ken."

He started to shake and quiver and grumble.

I thought for a moment he was going to be humble.

But, "No!," he screamed and shook his sickle.

I just smiled and kept real cool

And I said to him, "Look who's acting the fool."

He swung his sickle hard and low.

I knew I was dead if he landed that blow.

I rolled over quick and got up fast.

I said, "If you swing again, you've swung your last."

He stepped back and said with a frown,

"You've grown some since I was last in town."

I said, "Since I've seen you, I've worked hard and gone to school,

And believe this, mister, I'm no fool."

If he comes again, and he hasn't yet,

I will make you just a little bet.

All the fools that live in bliss

Will thank ol' Ken when they read this.

If he is fool enough to come a third time.

You bet your head his ass is MINE!



Ole Ken