Vampire

• Renee Starick, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2004

Silky smooth pallid skin,
To touch it would be a sin.
Shining, glowing, glory,
How it came to be such a sad story.
Orbs of spectrum blue see all,
And held their victims in thrall.
Hypnotizing,
Tantalizing.
Enticing her victims to their doom,
For them it came all too soon.
Then add to them spikes of wary white,
That shine so bright in the light.
They are the true dealers of death.