A book of small poetry

Someone

I'm always afraid that there's someone
Waiting behind that door
Someone taking and taking and taking
No hesitation, just breaking the law

Or maybe a person with a gun or a knife
Someone waiting to pierce my skin
Someone there waiting to threaten my life
In a duel that my fear can't win

Maybe they're searching for something inside
Maybe something that's a trial to find
Maybe they don't quite have time to hide
Behind a curtain in the back of my mind

And when I think these thoughts the scenes play in my head
And I panic and panic and panic
I panic and panic and panic some more
And panic and wish I was dead

Then when I open the door that there's no one behind
Still, I seize up; look round
But my eyes won't glimpse what I see in my mind
'Cause the truth is, there's no one around