Little Match Girl – a creepy poem.
Mom and Dad went out one day,
And left Pauline at home to play.
“Alone at last”, she happily sang,
Clapped her hands, and danced, and sprang.
Now, on the table close at hand,
A box of matches chanced to stand,
And though her parents often told her,
If she touched them they would scold her;
Pauline said, “Oh, what a pity!
When they burn, they are so pretty
They crackle so and fire and flame;
It’s like a little burning game.
I’ll only light a match or two
Just like I’ve seen my mother do.”
But Pauline would not take advice,
She lit a match, it was so nice!
It crackled so, it burned so clear
Exactly like the picture here.
She jumped for joy and ran about,
And was too pleased to put it out.
Now see! oh what a dreadful thing!
The fire has caught her apron-string;
Her dress it burns, her arms, her hair.
She burns all over, everywhere.
She screams for help, but all in vain
All she can do is scream again.
The fire burned up all her clothes,
Her arms and hands, her eyes and nose;
Until she had nothing to lose
Except her little dancing shoes;
And it was these her parents found
Among her ashes on the ground.
And when her parents stood beside
The smoking ashes, how they cried!
The tears ran down their cheeks about.
But tears can’t put a fire out.