On My Door
There they were, standing out, on the back of my door. Deep, splintered scratches, 3 ft. long, some to the floor. What had made those? It scares me to think. Is that color I see there? It is dull red or pink? Was it meaning to hurt me? I'll not sleep good tonight. Will it come back to kill me? Should I leave on the light? Did I hear that noise, as I was deep in my sleep? Did it watch me from the shadows, or by my bed did it creep? God, Please help me, if evil comes this way. If I see it's yellow eyes, will it help if I pray? I could say I'm nuts, I've just never seen them before. Was it something wanting me, and scratching on my door? A knock is heard, I think a Raven, Never More, Never More. I wake to find I am screaming, at the thing scratching at my door. Written April 3rd, 2002 © on Apr 03 2002 03:54 AM PST 0 • 10
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"There they were, standing out,..."