This dark/ghost story poem is more improvised and based on my own ideas.
Driving down a lonesome road,
A man was on his way,
To spend a weekend in the house,
Where he had once grown up.
The day was late, the sun had gone,
But the man, he did press on,
His mother was expecting him,
She’d cooked his favorite meal.
The road was old and very worn,
But he thought he knew the way,
He sped fast down that forest road,
Refusing to be late.
The suddenly right in front,
A man suddenly appeared.
He rode upon a dappled horse,
And he yelled for him to stop.
The car came to a sudden stop,
And the man felt quite upset.
But the man upon the horse,
He told him to turn back.
“The bridge has fallen, so beware,
You’d best turn back to town,
Or you may have an accident,
An’ ne’er arrive at all.”
With heart beating in his chest,
The man he breathed a sigh.
Though the rider’s dress was strange,
His alarm felt very real.
The man turned back then to the town,
He made sure to call his mom.
When he asked about the bridge,
The innkeeper he gasped.
“It’s true it fell down in a storm,
But there are no warning signs.
You were lucky to escape,
And avoid an accident.”
But when he told about the man,
Upon his dappled horse.
The innkeeper he grew so pale,
And nearly seemed to faint.
“Your savior, that was Old Nick.
He drowned there years ago.
And now he warns travelers,
So they’ll avoid his own mistake.”