Laying in my bed at night
My room is filled to the brim with fright
Pitch black and scary, thoughts making me wary,
I grip my pillow tight.
All that is heard is my deep breathing,
My eyes closed and I hear screaming.
But I open my eyes and to my surprise
My empty room displays nothing.
Late into the night it goes,
My frightening thoughts still grow.
I can’t fall asleep by counting sheep
‘Cause the murderer’s steps come close.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem