Lament of the Icons

Sitting ‘round a fire bright, 

Five dark strangers met that night.

Each one sat and warmed their toes,

And everybody shared their woes.

“Here’s the thing with kids today, 

Everything must be their way, 

I used to use just a machete,

To chase each Jack and Jill and Betty.”

“Now they want explosions too

Brand new evil, crisp and new.

Locked in rooms by psycho boys,

With tricycles and other toys.

“I agree,” another screamed,

“I used to get them as they dreamed.

But now they stay awake all night,

Playing games ‘till morning light. “

“What are folks like us to do,

When kids just don’t believe in you. 

What use is there in trying to scare,

When kids today no longer care?”

“Speak for yourself,” another said, 

“Why attack them in their bed?

When any mirror does just fine,

They say my name and they are mine.”

A moan from something lurking near,

A silent partner, still a peer.

“That one there? She holds the keys.

She comes for them through their tvs.”

“Oh hush up all, you dirty birds, 

You use such filthy, awful words.

It’s simple really, an easy plan,

You just become their biggest fan.”

“Then capture them when they are weak,

Refuse them any help they seek.

And when they try to run away, 

Then you really make them pay.”

“No, no, no, you’re got it wrong, 

The only way is trust your mom, 

She can set things right for you, 

And clear out pesky campers too.”

At this, another nearby shape,

Screeched so loud it made them gape.

“Oh don’t mind her, she’s not so odd,

Just a mom laying her pod.” 

They all were quiet, staring straight,

And then began to dissipate.

Each one went their separate way,

With nothing really left to say.

Exchanging emails, memes, and such,

And parting words like “Stay in touch!

“It’s good to talk and have a beer,

Let’s meet again, same place, next year?” 

Copyright Kelly Evans

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