Stab The Pumpkin
Above a graveyard some place scary. There sits a hand, so old and weary, impaled upon a pipe of steel, the only pain that he can feel is when he moves both left and right as he doth sit from day to night. Tis armoured only with a knife, whose purpose is to take the life, of every pumpkin that doth annoy him, as this hit only joy.
|