5608jr+Preposition+Poem

Between the trees the hangman sits he needs no axe , only bare fists. Every Halloween the children walk by , they feel his presence, cold and dry. The wind will blow, the leaves will scrape when the hangman chooses there's no escape. Between the trees

Under the bridge, the troll sits and sweeps, tortures a gamer and all his peeps. Male or female he makes his face, bare and hideous keeping his pace. Stalking his pray, he's slow and he's steady. All night and all day, he gets ready. Under the bridge


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