The Creature

Oh, lucky a man I be here tonight
for my tale is prone to stir up quite a fright
Over the meadow, beyond the woods
Lives a creature made entirely out of store goods

My encounter began with the moon shining bright
This creature awoke and came into my sight
Now I—just old me—had been walking alone
At the edge of the forest, when I first heard its drone

"Hello there," it snarled, "What a pleasure this is"
"I do hope you brought me something with some fizz"
"What are you?" I asked, "Oh look, it's getting late"
"SIT DOWN!" it demanded, "And feed me those crates!"

"What for?!" I refused, most unsure what to do
The crates were of plastic, with cans: Mountain Dew
"I need them," it told me, "to make revenue"
"Now HURRY my friend! Don't force me to hurt you"

"Well Good-bye" I said, with a smile oh so big
"You might have some luck if you ask that there twig!"
About face I turned, pleased with what I said
The creature, in fury, shot a can at my head

I fell on my face, and the creature approached
"Let's try this again, or you'll be flat as a roach!"
So all night I fed it a variety of cans
But as daylight approached, suddenly it just ran

It ran toward the forest, as if fleeing the light
It entered the trees and was just out of sight
I followed its path to the jungle of green
And there, in its place, was a soda machine


~Jacob