Well, this poem isn't overly funny, but it is inspired by all those feelings you feel when. . . someone's watching you.
There is, in each of us,
A dreaded feeling of vigilant eyes,
Watching our every movement.
And still, it comes as no surprise,
That this feeling stems from something true,
Yes, that feeling of something watching me,
Or maybe you.
These things have a name, oh yes indeed,
A name of which there is no need
To know, because what's the point?
When they already see you in every nook
Why these things watch us,
How should I know?
Though they might tell you if you had the will to show
Some courage, some resolve to go
And find these things that watch us so.
_I doubt that you can, _
They move much too fast,
Because one must in order to last
Much longer than a day in a world so cruel
That holds danger and sorrow
_So watch for these things, _
Stare them right in the eye,
Yet, I will not lie,
Some many men before you have tried.
But maybe you're different,
Maybe these things will see
That you're just a curious person,
Not something to eat.
Or maybe they won't.
Maybe you're not.
And maybe you'll just end up like the rest of the lot.
_Who knows? _
I guess it depends
On whether or not you've got some luck to spend.
So live on in your ignorance,
Maybe the feeling's just a feeling,
Surely, it's impossible for something to be watching.
But something will find you.
Something always does.
Bad things always happen sooner or later because,
These things like to watch first,
Predators like to wait before they hunt their food.
So watch out.
These things watch me,
And they watch you.