Every time I sleep,
I dream, I'm walking through a house.
Every night I walk I see the creep.
He stands around the corner.
I'm afraid to look.
I pretend he's not there,
And pick up a book.
I see myself turning the corner.
But, I don't want to look.
I know he's alive and real.
Then I see him.
No face, all dim and dark.
Just before he reveals himself,
I'm back.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry for you and me
PoetryWell apparently poetry is the new thing. All my friends are starting to write poetry books and well I want to also! So this book is going to be filled with my poetry and my friends soooo I hope you like it! ;)!
