The ghouls that hide in your closet
That tell you many lies.
The ghosts that hover over your head
That make you want to cry.
The goblins and witches that follow you everywhere
That throw you their foul words.
They all have nightmares
That they consider as a curse.
The howling in the bare woods
Is nothing but the blowing weather.
They all dream of me,
Me as your protector.
YOU ARE READING
Maybe This Is Me
PoetryMy brains, my blood, my heart, my friends. It's all I've got. *note* I have something like this already called "Consider Me Dead", But I wanted to start over... take out some things/add things. So, jst to let you guys know.
