Fear The Bogeyman - Poem by mark tallant
There is a presence in the night.
To toss and turn is his delight
Haunted memories through lonely head
Guilt and torment wish them dead.
And their he jigs in lowly prance
Is the lord of the dance?
When the Banshee rides that midnight storm
When demons rap at window pane.
When monsters stare from hidden Lear.
When rapists stalk at creaky door.
When murderers prey at down stair foot.
When burglars steal the family jewels.
Old withered hand crawls on spine
And strokes the hairs do stand on end
His frozen breathe on pimply neck
Holds your mind in dread of night.
And their he jigs cold as stone,
Chilling the heart, soul and bone
We’ve cursed and cussed that mocking tongue
That shatters Egos and strikes men dumb
So when faint heart meets fair maid.
It blushes with the silent room
When should more intimate relations met
With fine sung words at loves first bloom.
But there’s moments passed
You’ve kissed the day.
That by pure flex sinew
And sharp clear wit.
It yanked your aching body from
The depth of hells dark death pit.
Oh stand against that raging tide
That swallows courage
And drowns yer pride
And step out of that abyss
To breath the air that is success
And taste the victory upon your lips.
Discover fear with all his tricks
As it jigs the dance of broken dreams
It fills our head with nagging doubts
And laughs to tell what might have been.
The world moves on don’t let it bye
DONT dance that jig until you die.
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