The Goblin's abed, nightcap, on his head, with Scraggle, the Rat, at his feet.
He's had a nightmare, but, he does not care, for, that's what makes his night, complete!
For goblins, you see, not like you and me, adore all, that's wicked and weird.
And, he just absorbs, through toenails and pores, till, into his brain, they are seared!
He has quite a collection, of putrid infections, from which, inspiration, he draws.
He tries them, on strangers, who don't know the dangers, 'til, they find them, stuck, in their craws!
To see them, break out, makes him giggle and shout, so, don't ever darken his door.
Bad's what he's good, at; you can count, on that, and your friends won't see you, anymore!
He's had a nightmare, but, he does not care, for, that's what makes his night, complete!
For goblins, you see, not like you and me, adore all, that's wicked and weird.
And, he just absorbs, through toenails and pores, till, into his brain, they are seared!
He has quite a collection, of putrid infections, from which, inspiration, he draws.
He tries them, on strangers, who don't know the dangers, 'til, they find them, stuck, in their craws!
To see them, break out, makes him giggle and shout, so, don't ever darken his door.
Bad's what he's good, at; you can count, on that, and your friends won't see you, anymore!
Donna L. Ferguson Dudley copyright 2015 10/28/14
Artist: Pascal Moguérou
Artist: Pascal Moguérou
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