The Lamp

No ordinary genie, No ordinary lamp, Six feet underneath the ground, The metal cold and damp.

The silver shines without a light, Sometimes you hear a hiss, The metal scrapes without a scratch, Such sad and lonely bliss.

This genie has no wishes, This lamp is not a prize, For if you rub this antique lamp, Well, everybody dies.

So do you dare to touch it? C’mon, just one step more... You’ll rub the lamp with greedy palms, And fall dead to the floor.

• Anonymous Nobody