The Tell-Tale Heart

      
               Kind by day, not so by night,
        Hate of the eye grew with the loss of light.             
           Mad, they called him, crazy, I say      
                Death drew closer every day.                
            In the dark, he stealthily spied, 
               to gaze upon the vulture eye.
          
             It was dull blue with a hidious veil.
           From deep inside came a terrible wail.
              Always waiting, always closed,
            While the old man innocently dozed.
            Then, one night, on his eighth try, 
              He saw it open, the vulture eye.
          
                He waited still, for an hour or so,
            And then, the shriek, none too low.
          He pounced on the bed, to make the kill,
        And then the old man and the eye were still.
            He cut off the limbs, and the head.
            A tub caught the blood of the dead.
          
          He had to hurry, the neighbors awake,
             A hole in the floor, he did make.
        The police knocked hard, on his front door.
      They would never suspect what lay beneth the floor.
         Then a sound peirced his soul like a dart,
        For a beating came from, the tell-tale heart.












Please note that this is the most morbid thing 
I've ever wrote and it was back in 8th grade. 
If you wish to comment on it, go ahead.  
Just don't be too brutal.  Thanks.



© 1997 elfin33333@aol.com