Bedtime Poem by Sarah Sisson
Bedtime
The lights go out, I come alive
Increasing heartbeat makes me thrive
A timid rascal in the room
If I come out he'd surely swoon
I come alone, I'm here all night
I feed on fear, I dine on fright
You timid rascal in the room
Your corner bedroom I do loom
A crack of light that's in the door
I sneak around on darkened floor
That timid rascal in the bed
I'm right above your covered head
The crickets creek, the windows draft
My disposition is my craft
You timid rascal in the sheets
I keep you covered; my defeats....
...of soothing mother in next room
You wish you might just slumber soon
But little rascals pending doom
Is my objection, my air loom
I am a monster strong of mind
Emotion craving is my kind
I want the rascal in that bed
To pay me heed not sleep instead
My clownlike face is broken, bruised
a foul confection on my shoes
My hair is soiled, my clothes too tight
Inside my costume is a sight....
....of turmoiled faces I have seen
and once did see me so they screamed
While trapped forever in my being
That rascal's sure to know what seeing...
....and believing share tonight
A strange horrific clownlike sight
to rustle strangely near his bed
He'll lie awake just like I said
But both his eyes stay shut right now
I wait each night for when, where how
I'll get that rascal while he sleeps
I'll wake him with my scary feats
And low behold when I am done
He'll pass me right on to his son
Then soothing father coming soon
will all forget whats in the room
copyright 10-10-2008 ©® Sarah Sisson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/9/2024 12:56:25 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Ouch! You reminded me what it's like to be 4 or 5yo again...and that takes some doing. Thanks for sharing. I really like the idea of that 'scariness' inhabiting the room's corner, in the shadows, waiting, and the idea of that fear being passed on - when the boy grows up and forgets the 'fear', from the 'fears' point of view there'll be hs son to 'terrorise', and so the cycle goes on. I like the kind of personification you gave 'fear'. Great poem! Afterthought: The idea that 'fear' feeds on our fear is so real, exactly like it is...which shows a way out! Great poem!