Hyperbole Poem – Scary

I wish I was not so scary

I make ice cream cones dry

Causing the little children to cry

I am so scary that my job 

Is to live under kids beds

Terrifying them so much they wet the bed

If I ever leave the shadows 

The plants would rot and forest would decay

Everyone who can still walk would runaway

People would whisper under their breath a single prayer

Because I’m everything’s worst nightmare

by Lucy

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