(This poem was made by using The Daily Post prompt for 26/02/2017 - jiggle)
The Man Behind The Door
I jiggle the bells on the door dangling
How very strange I start questioning
A person using bells still to ring
But little have I moment for baffling
As the door open and a man is standing
His tall body lean and his presence empowering?
It's in his eyes, an eerie green and domineering
A quick breeze had jiggle the bells - clanking
As I shook myself out from my trance being
"Hello sir, you see my car had me struggling
It's not until tomorrow I can get some helping
If you may good sir if I'm not troubling
Would you mind to have me here - staying?"
The man had low voice chuckling
As if I am some kind of plaything
I stood calmly and earnestly yearning
Until suddenly a loud crash can be heard banging
I turn my head and it's my car oh how charming!
It is before my mind can start reasoning
When I see from the distant a man was hit and now dying
It is before any ideas can start propositioning
It was the man with the bells that still jiggling
It is before I understand the truth I'm facing
I am, no, I was still behind the steering
With cuts all over and enormous blood spilling
With another soul marked as me sinning
The man has a low voice chuckling
"Oh dear, I think we have other place we should be going"
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