A tiny, trembling hand intrudes my lair,
For that I'll serve an extra cup of scare:
You fumble for that filthy switch of light;
But sure as hell won't sleep a wink tonight.

It's easy, see? At first I breathe and wheeze,
Then make the shadows eat your whiny pleas;
I'll whisper hellish curses in your ears:
Before you cry for mom I'll drink your tears.

I'll feed all night upon your mortal dread;
Your dad might make me hide beneath your bed
And give you time to catch your shaky breath,
But neither mom nor dad can sidestep death.

I'll skitter freely through your dust and crud,
And caper at the scent of human blood.
You hope your lights will keep my kind away:
But dear, the Boogieman is here to stay!



Poetry by Thomas Selnes
Read 1177 times
Written on 2007-10-17 at 05:15

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