Fear is my mouse
It scritters and scratches
And furtively tap dances
In the black when I'm
Hoping and dreaming in the dark
His friend is a moth of self-doubt
That hides from the day
But flutters and bashes
And flits at my eyelashes
Whenever I turn out the light
Even the innocent tree
Who can't help but sway in the wind
Is guilty of tapping my window
The glass is belief and the branch uncertainty
The panes often shatter and let in the night.