Raining, maiming, beating down,
I run as soon as I see the clown.
Froze in my bed I make no sound,
But still his hateful fists they pound!
What had I done to earn my fate,
Provoke his rage and fuel his hate?
My muffled tears I softly weep,
Given way to fitful sleep,
My dreams no comfort offer me,
I spy his shadow, try to flee,
Haunting, taunting filled with glee,
I run through the dawn before I’m free…
I waken, shaken, bruised and sore,
look around my room once more.
Then I see that hateful clown,
Who spent the night chasing me down,
Sitting sweetly on the shelf,
Nothing like his nightime self.
He’s been this way since my childhood,
I’ve often thrown him out for good,
But back he comes everytime,
To continue his haunting twilight crimes.
horror clown
clown doll
Project Me 1st 