The Demon Dentist

The Demon Dentist

In the dead of night,

when the world’s asleep,

Through shadows dark,

the silence deep,

A chilling figure begins to creep—

The demon dentist, tooth to reap.

No kind healer, no tender care,

His grin is sharp, his eyes a glare.

With tools of terror, his bag of fright,

He prowls the town in the moon’s light.

He doesn’t clean, he doesn’t mend,

He doesn’t soothe, nor does he tend.

He takes the teeth, both old and new,

A treasure trove of pearly hue.

Through bedroom doors, he softly slips,

With icy breath and fingertips.

He leaves no coin, no trace, no clue,

Just empty gums where teeth once grew.

The children whisper, the parents pray,

That he won’t visit them one day.

For once he starts, he won’t desist—

Beware the demon dentist’s twist.

So guard your smiles, keep teeth in check,

Lest he come calling, your dreams to wreck.

For in the night, through shadows dense,

The demon dentist makes no sense.