In the old days,
back in the old country,
they would come to my door knocking,
looking sad, helpless, needy,
and hungry.
I knew they couldn’t cross the threshold
without my permission,
but they were hard to resist.
They could cast a mesmerizing spell, you know,
with their magnetic eyes and their sensual aura.
I could hardly look away most times.
I learned to lock my doors and windows in four places
and to put up a sign,
No Demons Allowed.
Soon they stopped bothering me.
But it’s many years later,
in the new country.
The vampires are back,
and they are ignoring my sign and
my locked doors and windows.
They appear suddenly,
with the same sad, helpless, needy, hungry look as before.
They don’t just want me to let them in;
they need me to let them in.
Their very survival seems to depend on me.
My friends tell me the vampires are after them too.
Still, they need my permission to enter.
They can’t have my life blood without it.
In my weaker moments, it is all I can do to resist.
They are relentless, positively unceasing,
very sneaky in their approach,
and always so alluring,
as mesmerizing as they were in the old country.
They know that I want what they offer,
but if I let them in,
it will be the death of me.
If I want to live, and I very much do,
I must continue to fight.
When the vampires plead to come into my home,
I don’t wait anymore to be seduced.
It’s too dangerous. Instead,
I quickly hover over the pop-up screen,
and click my mouse on the words,
I’m Not Interested.