behind unmarked boxes
and long forgotten toys
lay small nagging fears
too scary to admit
in the daylight.
Afraid to peek
up the stairs and
into the formidable dark,
convinced you'll be attacked
by some nocturnal creature,
you slam the door and heave against it with
fractured breath.
So they remain,
inaccessible piercing thoughts,
in the midst of
the dustbunnies
as they dance
in a circle of guilt.
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inaccessible piercing thoughts,
in the midst of
the dustbunnies
as they dance
in a circle of guilt.
---
---
Get your own Free Home Page