Cloud of Gloom

There’s been a cloud of gloom
that always likes to zoom,
but it’s been coming round and round
just like a big ol’ loom.

“Hello!” I greet Sir Mound of Doom
as he makes his way towards a room,
“Where are you going on this fine, bright, day
perhaps off to make a boom?”

But he does not slow a single step,
not a roll, a flap, or splash,
and continues on his wary way
to the holiday Christmas bash.

“Stop!” I shout as I spring to my feet,
“Stop! Halt! Or I will throw wheat!”

And he does hear me, Sir Mound of Doom,
until, atleast, I crash with a boom.
Down goes the door but not the room
to all of my friends with special amends.

He quickly cocks his brow
at me and my odd actions,
“Have you simply stopped me
for me to wow?”

Quickly I spring up to my feet
and continue to talk, not skipping a beat.
“Why have you been near
the friends I hold dear?”

To that he murmurs one quick little word
before going on his way before I even heard
the reason to my friends’ demise
that they hold close, just like a prize.


My own poem, no stealing >:[