The Weirdest Poem Ever

One dark day, in wind and bluster,

Warily I traveled to a courtyard of stone

Passing the gate took valor to muster-

The iron swirls did rattle and moan


In Spring, this place was a haven of light

Where green flourished from Eden's spark

Now, it was a hideous, perpetual night

Where I did shudder, alone in the dark


Making my way across the familiar bend

My lips paled under frost

As to the ninth row I came to an end

I knew it well, though my sight was lost


Stone angels with stern faces

Cold crucifixes litter my way

The unseen dead seem to loom in strange places

Ah, how I wished I hadn't gone that day!


So fearful was I, and keen to be gone,

Feeling my heart flutter, quite perturbed

Upon mother's grave, I placed a pittance that shone

And hoped I left the eyes of the night undisturbed


I kissed mother's name, and wished her well

In my pocket, I fingered my pence

That would ferry me by coach waiting by frozen hell

And deliver me quickly hence


Hurry to make no delay

I retreated back, only to take a spill

And helplessly began to roll away

Down the slope of the graveyard's hill


Against stone I slammed; my eyes dropped rain

It hurt too much to move

My ribs were blistering in unbiased pain

I waited in vain to improve


Then out of the shadows, out from the soil

I noticed, to my terror

A skeletal hand was scrabbling to toil

At the crumbling Earth. Oh, ungodly error!


I screamed and I cried as a skeleton did arise

Out of the unholy grave

Terror choked me, and my eyes grew in size

As it complimented me for being brave!


The monster fussed me over, it tried to console me

It decided to tell me jokes that were funny

The monster even gave me some hot herbal tea

Which tasted wonderful with milk and honey


Out of the graveyard he carefully carry me

I imagine it must have been a sight

A corpse carrying a girl with a broken knee-

Good heavens, who knew the dead were awfully polite?


He called a surgeon, and waited by the gate

While I told of him of mother's declining years

He did berate me for being out so late

And at his empty eyes, wiped away tears


The surgeon's carriage came; I was carried away

The skeleton waved me off with an invite:

To come and see him again some day

When I was feeling alright.


When I woke up, I thought all was dreamed

The doctor called it a fantasy

But if all was nothing as it seemed

Who sent the flowers addressed to me?