Maybe because I've always been
*******--
Or unscrewed, I suppose--
In the mental department
Maybe because I know he's a friend
He's just as scared of the world as me
He's not some evil figure
Lurking about at night
Intentionally trying to terrify
He's a man all the same
I don't care what his appearance is
He just tries to hide
Seeking refuge and comfort
Trying to hide his lugubrious mind
He just wants a friend that understands
So he lays under the bed
Or sits in the closet
He doesn't even say a thing
Except "Boo-hoo"
When he hears your life story spoken aloud
By your conscious lips
Or subconscious dream clouds
But what most people don't hear
Is the important half
"Hoo"
They hear boo
And awake and scream
Trying to climb into bed with parents
But Mr. Boogeyman hasn't visited
In a long while
And I'm starting to miss him
Maybe he'll come back tonight
But I'm not afraid of the Boogeyman
Because I've met much worse