Catapult

October 6, 2008
By Kelly McCormack, South Plainfield, NJ

Hiding in the darkest corners,
Watching as the kids get out the tools,
A button is pressed,
And the door opens with a creak and then a swoosh,
Light flies in and I shrink back,
They drag in wood and lay it out,
It starts to rain and I think of dinner,
The bugs will float in getting caught in my web,
I’ll wait for a moment then sneak in to attack,
The venom will pour through my victim’s veins,
As I sit down on them and wait,
When it stops to move,
I’ll take it back to where I hide,
And dinner will be served,
When I’ve finished eating the kids have moved on,
Now they’re outside,
I watch through the door,
They’re using the wood to fling objects that burst to spray water on the already wet
cement.
Now they jump and scream and cheer,
And run around like they’re trying to fly,
I hear the one boy scream,
The one who lives inside,
I only catch one word,
Catapult,
Whatever that means.



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