Beware the man with the umbrella
standing alone out by the lake
The shadowed kind of fella
who wants, your soul, to take
He preys upon your failures
and on every last mistake
In your struggle to survive
watching every step you make.
You met him once, upon the road
where the roads split up, in forks
He helped you with a heavy load
turns out it was a hoax
The bargain cost you more
it put you on a slippery slope
Never to settle up the score
left you tethered to his rope
A puppet's what he made you
and he, the puppet master
No matter what you pay, his dues
remain till the hereafter
You've sold your soul for pennies
for that thing, you had to have
A collection of hollow bodies
and there is no going back
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
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Comments (2)
Sadly, this was very relatable. Loved your poem!
Relationships that measure somewhere between the company store ("You Haul Sixteen Tons") & Dr. Faust are no relationships at all. Toxic at best. Soul-killing.