October 26th, 2021

Dear Diary, 

up on 24th street is where I lay,

as I wait for the dark to go away.

As I wait for the new day.

Up on the dark road, 

while the wind has blown,

hiding in my little dome.

It’s made of blankets and pillows,

flashlights and batteries,

with hugs and snuggles.

Chip my wolf, Chip my love,

will you protect your dove?

As you sit in her lap, close and sound,

with her face gloomy and downed.

I grab the guitar,

I play a song,

as Grandmother grabs a cigar.

“Oh look mother!” Cries little sister.

“Oh look father!” I cry, as something grabs my eye.

There is light down the roads, 

and as the wind blows,

I come out of my dome,

And watch as the moon rises,

“Oh the wisest.” Mother says.

She spoke again. “Now off to bed.”

We complain and cry,

about the monster

who lives in the closet and 

under the bed.

It wasn’t even Nine!

The silence was a concert.

So I read, and wept.

“An apple a day, keeps the doctor away.”

Is what they say, so I grab one,

I grab two.

I grab none as they are gone.

Math, then a bath, then bed.

But we can’t do bath,

so we must do Math and then bed.

Tired and sleepy.

Mad and somewhat hungry.

“I am not going to bed for all 

I would listen to is the wind and

the dog’s itch. I would wake 

to sounds of TV’s and lights

flashing on.”

I cry and read, as I start to plead.

“School is tomorrow.” Mother says.

So off to bed we go,

on the living room flooring,

with my father snoring.

The lights flash and the

TV’s boom, with the cat’s

yawn.

Off to my bed, down the halls,

nearly tripping over balls, 

I stumble and fall, onto

the soft and comfy bed.

What is that shadow in the corner?

Watching me so?

Not the dog nor mom.

Close my eyes and shiver, 

but not from the cold.

For who was the man in the shadows?

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