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JA Doetsch
Poems
Jan 2012
The Vault
You walk down the *****
cobblestone street
there is an old man
that you're going to meet
He has with him a paper
that contains my last wishes
It explains what to do
with my vast wealth and riches
You meander along
confused at this mystery
you see, we haven't spoke
since 2nd grade history
You enter the office
and are offered a chair
the man's tired eyes
give you a rather bored stare
He gets down to business
he hands you a key
and a card with an address
then he asks you to leave
Your curiosity wins
and you see yourself out
next thing you find yourself
in front of a house
This house is old
and decrepit and weary
hell, you'll admit it
it's just a bit scary
Taped up on the door
of this nightmarish lair
Is a note with your name
that just says "Downstairs"
Inside the house
the place looks like a wreck
as you do your best to ignore
the chills down your neck
You go down to the cellar
and you come to a halt
nothing to find
but a large metal vault
You grin with excitement
and you giggle with glee
your hand is shaking
as you put in the key
You swing open the door
and what do you find?
naught but a note
folded three times
You cautiously open it
and read it aloud
It says "Yur a dorkhead"
You furrow your brow
You haven't a clue
You turn the note in your hand
You're about to walk out
when the vault door is slammed
You scream and you shout
But try as you might
No one can hear you
that vault's sealed tight
While you sit in there rotting
just try and remember
who read that note?
Just who was the sender?
Who's the dorkhead now?
Written by
JA Doetsch
St. Louis, MO
(St. Louis, MO)
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