MR. POE, MADE ME KNOW, WHAT I DID NOT WANT TO KNOW

At 13, I read a horror story, by Eddie Poe,

The story was so scary, I could not walk, I couldn't go,

It frightened, so bad,

When I was a lad,

I wish the story I never read, and would never know.

WHERE THE BOOGEYMAN BE

There was a boogeyman who hung around a boogey-bog,

He had a big boogey-cat, and a little boogey-dog,

He drank boogey-beer,

He ate boogey-deer,

Then the bad boogeyman would sleep under a boogey-log.

MAYBE IT'S THE BOOGEYMAN?

As I laid upon my bed,

Someone painted my toenails red,

Did some elf play a part?

Or, a troll's expression of art?  

Maybe it's the boogeyman trying to get inside my head?