The Gobblewog

This is my first attempt at children's poetry The Gobblewog There’s a Gobblewog beneath my bed and every night he must be fed, traffic cones and dogs bones bed posts and TV hosts, fallen stars with half smoked cigars a baked martyr just for the starter! for the main course he’ll eat half a Porsche smothered in papaya and paint Oh gosh it all makes me feel faint. Then he’ll slow down to consume a bucket of gizzards and goo the president and some chicken poo, just for a snack he’ll eat a whole train track. I wanted to take him to the zoo but he’d probably eat that too. But I don’t worry about robbers and thieves disturbing my peace my Gobblewog will surely find those a magnificent feast.