Trips-Tease Poem by Bron Kozakiewicz

Here I go, on another trip... A better one this time?
Well it started at six, or was it seven? And now it's half past nine.
Just look at all those silver leaves dancing on the trees,
They shimmer in the moonlight and play upon the breeze.
Someone told me it's eleven o' clock, but I'm really not so sure.
Oh my Gosh what the hell was that? It just shot across the floor.
You want me to go through that gate? Sorry but there's no way,
If I go through there in the dark, I'll never see the day.
Who's that on that moped? It's following me all around,
Every time I turn a corner it's on the road that I walk down.
What do you mean you've broken your arm and you're in a lot of pain?
You haven't done anything to it, I think you're going insane.
Let's go somewhere, we can always hitch a ride,
We can't because no one's ever been there. Let's go home and stay inside.
Now we're home, I'm not so sure this was a good idea,
Because even though we should be safe, I think there's someone here.