Monday, August 4, 2014

The Man at the Door

I heard a knock knock at my door
Heard the creaking of the floor
I rose and neared it steadily
My heart beating dreadfully

The man had come, had come for me 
I saw the door but couldn’t see
With pupils large and unseeing 
I Forgot I should be fleeing

Slowly my lips drew in breathe 
As I stared, stared down death
Should I run, jump out the window? 
I debated...I was too slow

He shot the door, he shot it down 
I screamed, but I made no sound

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