Red Sauce

by Czechlister

There’s a vampire in my kitchen
I don’t know what to do.

Only half a foot high
With bright greedy eyes,
Shining sharp fangs,
To sate ravenous pangs,
His black hair so sleek
In it’s widow’s peak –
He’s sleeping in my cupboard
Desperately kept shuttered.

There’s a vampire in my kitchen
Whom I’ve fought with a wooden spoon
Broken in half,
He only laughed
And said the end was soon.

Every single night
I battle with this blight
But the price of fighting’s steep
I’m losing feeling in my feet.

From ankle’s pierced skin
And perforated shins
I’m losing all my red,
Forgetting where I tread.