Portals: A Poem

Portals: A Poem


The 21st of April it was
Back in 753 B.C.
Romulus and Remus founded a new City.


Rome it was called - The Eternal City.


Inside the old house by the wishing well
the statue of the she- wolf fell.

The old man looked up
from his favourite cup.


"Romulus and Remus' mother has gone," the old man sighed.
Then the old man dropped his cup and died.


It was a hotel room in some distant city
the weather outside was not very pretty
and the two children a dish of potato chips did hoard
as they sat and played with a Ouija board.


The little boy asked, "Will I die soon?"
as the little girl licked her tablespoon.


What would the answer be? Anyone's guess.
But the planchette moved to the spot marked Yes.


The little boy opened his mouth to scream
but nothing came out it would seem
for he just died- and 'twas no dream.


Google leaves one with thoughts to ponder
today's explanation for the Loch Ness monster
one-eyed ETs piloting a sub
that has Nessie's head above.


So now you know
before you go
look all around
listen for sound.


There are portals everywhere
in the attic- below the stair
Wormholes they are called by some
slithery worms slide through causing you to run
But this warning- you can run but you cannot hide
Just ask the many- the many who have died.


-A horror poem written by Christopher
Tuesday April 21st 2015.


Sent from my iPhone