Awakening

When she was little
She’d had a bad dream
Two monsters were fighting
She’d swallowed her screams
And sat up in bed
She’d watched enthralled
As they battered each other
And shouted and snarled
And although she was tiny
Not yet fully formed
The idea of good and evil was born
~
Still to this day she remembers that dream
But she cannot remember the winner supreme
Was it the bad one who had the most strength
His arms flailed so wildly his pupils so dense
Or was it the good one who kept hitting back
Despite seeming weaker and taking the flack
~
Now she’s an adult and more worldly wise
Her dream she’s tried hard to self-analyse
But the feelings she felt on that God awful night
Won’t be dismissed as a toddlers first fright
They came for a reason
And deep down she’s all knowing
That good over evil, battle’s ongoing

Living nightmare

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.

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horror clown

clown doll