He stands there lurking,
Just watching when I sleep.
Always in the corner while I'm trying to count sheep.
He's under my bed when i turn off the lights.
He knows its useless to pray so just say good night.
He's there.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Pieces Unraveled
PoetryThe mind is the the gate way to hell and insecurity is the key to opening it .This collection of poems are just a taste of that.
