The Caretaker

The Caretaker


The sun slowly sets, over the empty school,
From the shadows, appears a darker shadow.
Walking proudly, locking doors, gates, windows,
Trapping the school within the darkness.
The Caretaker has come, finally out to play.


Keys and knives jingle and jangle.
A crooked grin on that pale cold face.
One approaches him, offering him gold;
“I was taken by a Life-taker”
The Caretaker laughs, freezing all nerves.


The Caretaker reaches out to the soul;
“I am the Undertaker” Not the Reaper, no!
Old Death hired this Caretaker to care for,
Those in need of care; an Undertaker;
“I am the Undertaker of the night”


Death rests on his armchair, puffing away;
“Good old Caretaker” as one arrives.
“The carer of the dead” he grins his eternal grin;
“Is my own Undertaker” So at night beware;
That Caretaker, Cares for the Dead.