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Wayne Leon Learmond

Rookie (12th March 1963 / Liverpool)

Under The Bed

What if there is
Something there
Under the Bed
or under the stairs
That only comes out
in the dark of the night.
To creep round you're home
after you turn off you're lights.

But childish fears don't persist
When you're 'grown up and 'adult'
So you resist
The temptation to look
Under the Bed
You close you're eyes
and rest you're head.

And think about people
And think about places
And think about times
when you went to the races
And think about happy
and broad-grinned faces
Don't think of the evil
that lies in dark spaces.

You try not to breathe
Holding you're breath
You're alive
But you're feeling like death
You're heart is loud
On you're chest
You're mind is running
Can't get any rest.

And there you see
the sum of you're fears
An old enemy
From you're childhood years.

It's rising,
yet rising
Molding and yet
It's coming to get you
as you try to forget.

The shape that it takes
The form that it makes
In you're room
Now you're face to face
with this inter-dimensional
Demon of Doom
An enemy old
in you're bedroom.

You reach for the lamp
Switch it on
In less then a second
the demon is gone
It withers away
from the light in the room
You've done the thing down
back into the gloom.

But still it awaits
Awaiting and still
Preying on you
and getting it's fill
of you're fear -
of what's Under you're Bed
In the dead of the night
while you're laying you're head.

So, dear reader
It should always be said
That you never look EVER
Under you're Bed.

What entities, there
in the dark you might find
are not always from
an over-active mind...

Submitted: Monday, August 14, 2006
Edited: Wednesday, August 25, 2010

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  • Rookie Mary Naylor (8/14/2006 4:43:00 PM)

    I loved this poem with its subtle humor! The line length and meter build up a tension.
    Great atmosphere! (Report) Reply

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