WakingA Poem by silverlocketAn old poem I found in a draw. I think it came from wondering round an old, dilapidated house when I was small.The house is quiet, here Dark and warm; (I haven’t moved, you see And the spiders have had their babies here The wind that sounds like rapping. And although it may just be a tree, this time there is someone Rap, I know they see me, here They can,
sh © 2016 silverlocketAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on September 27, 2016 Last Updated on November 17, 2016 Tags: poetry, horror poetry, horror story, nightmare Author
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