I fell in love with the Bride of Frankenstein
I don’t know whose heart she has, but I’d give her mine.
I think we’re made for each other it must be said.
Even though I’m alive and she’s fictional and dead.
When that lightning strike bought her to life,
I was well pissed that the monster wanted her for his wife.
“The monster need a mate,” it growled, things were looking grim.
Luckily unlike me he’s an ugly bugger, so she jilted him.
She gives me funny feelings all over, right down to my socks.
Even though her hair looks like a badger that’s had an electric shock.
I love all her stolen parts, from her eyes to her mammary glands,
I long to hold her but worry she’ll come apart in my hands.
But sadly my bride’s deceased, so I must try to be brave,
And swear not to write bad poetry while I cry at her grave.
Instead above her remains each night I plan to fly a kite,
Hoping beyond hope that once again lightning will strike.