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The Vine-Man Song: A Cautionary Tale

A Poem by R. M. Staniforth

By R. M. StaniforthPublished 3 years ago 2 min read

In the trees, In the trees,

The Vine-Man’s in the trees.

If he’s coming you won’t see,

The Vine-Man in the trees.

In the trees, In the trees,

He’ll hang you from the trees.

He wraps his vines around your neck

And dead you will be.

“My son, what is that song you sing,

It truly has a horrid ring.

Please stop these dark and creepy tales,

You’ll surely drive me off the rails!”

“Why dad, that is the Vine-Man’s song

To keep us kids from going wrong,

The Vine-Man’s on the river’s East,

Where children will become his feast.”

“We ought not play amongst those trees,

The song we must appease.

For when the kids go in those woods,

They become the Vine-Man’s goods.”

“Many daring children tried,

and every single one has died.

They find ‘em hanging from a vine,

Killed like a sort of dirty swine.”

I took the scared boy by the arm,

To show him that there was no harm.

I’d squash these childish tales and fears,

Despite his terror and his tears.

I took him to the river’s east,

To show him that there’s no such beast.

For in these woods, the kids could play,

Without a worry through the day.

I taught him how to climb a tree.

And I could surely see,

That he was starting to have fun.

His fears had come undone.

He climbed and yelled, “Dad look at me!”

“How high I’ve climbed this tree!”

I smiled, but something felt wrong,

My thoughts were stuck upon that song.

In the trees, In the trees,

The Vine-Man’s in the trees.

If he’s coming you won’t see,

The Vine-Man in the trees.

In the trees, In the trees,

He’ll hang you from the trees.

He wraps his vines around your neck

And dead you will be

I pushed aside my fearful whim

And started to climb after him.

We’d sit upon a branch and laugh,

A father and his younger half.

My eyes shifted for just a sec,

To give my hold a double check.

When up above I heard a scream,

Straight from a dark and evil dream.

The vines reached out and grabbed him tight.

My boy, he put up quite the fight.

But as he fought and writhed and kicked,

The vines continued to constrict.

I tried to climb up to my boy,

And save him from this evil ploy.

When under my foot I felt a crack.

I fell and landed on my back.

Up high his feet kicked and dangled,

The violent vines, they gripped and strangled.

In seconds my son was still and dead,

I’d led him straight to his death bed.

I plead with you to hear this warning.

Or you as well will be in mourning.

The song keeps kids from going wrong,

All must heed the Vine-Man’s Song.

In the trees, In the trees,

The Vine-Man’s in the trees.

If he’s coming you won’t see,

The Vine-Man in the trees.

In the trees, In the trees,

He’ll hang you from the trees.

He wraps his vines around your neck

And dead you will be.

fact or fictionheartbreaksad poetry

About the Creator

R. M. Staniforth

R. M. Staniforth is a writer of many fictional short stories, mainly focused in the genre of horror and thriller. Many of his stories have been narrated on podcasts and YouTube.

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Reader insights

Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

Top insights

  1. Easy to read and follow

    Well-structured & engaging content

  2. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

  3. Eye opening

    Niche topic & fresh perspectives

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