Under the duvet, late at night,
I lie there still in a gripping fright,
All alone, except for the shapes,
That lurk and stare and keep me awake.
The night is a black sheet of paper,
Smothering, lingering, dark.
Voices whisper but then get louder,
Louder, louder, I scream a silent scream
The door rattles, they're coming, they're coming
Banging, pushing, the hinges creaking
I hide under the duvet, holding my breath
But they hear and they come and I know I
K McCallam and Y5©