Returning late at night;
Dark and empty home.
Flickering of movement,
When I am all alone.
Heart skips a beat -
Someone in my room.
Move when I move,
Freeze when I do.
Creeping behind them,
Striking them hard,
Hearing the tinkle,
Of broken glass.
Fumbling for a light;
Brightness floods the room.
Scintillating shards,
A shattered heirloom.
Ornate ancient mirror,
Splintered on the ground.
Cuts on all my fingers,
No-one else around.
No sneaking intruders,
But I guess they'll be,
Seven more years
Of bad luck for me.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Poetry
PoésieA compilation of random poems that I've written accompanied with drawings/photos I've taken. Each poem has a different mood or feel, some are happy, others are sad, and a few are just weird. Some are like stores while others just convey ideas. It's...
