The boring hours tick by
by Jane Tomlin
as I sit in the room with the thing
His watchful, daring green eye
gazing at the book in which I wrote.
His ugly dirty face continued to stare
as he walked over to my chair
The seconds stopped ticking
as I waited for the verdict.
'Scared are we, I don't care
I'll eat you up including your hair'.
'Alas, Sir Fright I must warn you
beware I do judo'.