Again, it is here, I sense its presence,
I've felt its intrusion before.
Hiding beneath my welcome mat,
It waits near my late night door.
When I finally close my eyes,
slowly sink deep into my nights rest,
Soon it will crawl between my thoughts,
as I sleep, a creeping, gnawing pest.
Its murky shadow mushrooms slyly,
as it fills my sleeping room.
Smothering the fading light within me,
foretelling a murky doom.
Breathing deeply between the folds,
that store my every thought,
It pokes its shadowy tentacles,
and embraces a memory it has caught.
Suddenly before me appears a nameless bus.
I sense I've been on it before.
I am greeted by a faceless man,
who drives off, quickly slamming the door.
I realize I'm the lone rider on this bus,
now turning and going the wrong way.
I quickly pull the cord, I must get off,
but the driver yells to sit down and stay.
I'm on the wrong bus, I beg the driver to stop,
I know I will soon be lost.
He laughs as says he'll stop just once,
after the final bridge has been crossed.
Miles and miles later, the bus finally stops;
the door opens and I am finally let out.
I'm spun around, I just don't know,
where I am or what this is all about.
All goes dark as my rooms nightly intruder,
has poked another memory or thought.
I find myself behind the wheel of a car,
similar to one I long ago bought.
I slam the brakes, nothing happens;
I'm out of control so I turn the wheel and swerve.
I just miss a car and then another,
I will have to stop by skidding along a curb.
Suddenly, the car stops, my arms and head are bleeding,
And I think I must have crashed.
Then a clown appears at my door, hands me a balloon,
then says he likes potatoes mashed.
A siren wails, a policeman screams at me,
ordering me out of my blood stained car.
He jumps on me, crushing me to the ground,
turns me over, then gives me a candy bar.
I feel another poke from my nighttime visitor,
suddenly I'm sitting in my backyard.
A whining plane lumbers overhead, falling,
then crashing, its outer skin now charred.
I run to the broken plane, I hear cries for help,
then I see a small hand beacon me.
Beneath the fire and smoke lies a young soul,
begging me to help set her free.
I summon all of my courage, burst through the wreckage,
and reach for her little hand.
I pull her up and she turns to me saying,"I love you",
as we tumble out onto the land.
Outside, many surround the burning plane,
screaming with their angry arms flailing about.
They grab us both and throw us back into the burning plane,
yelling, "No one can come out".
If I could but open my sleeping eyes,
might my unwelcome visitor leave me alone tonight.
And stop poking at my thoughts and fears,
which have spawned this nocturnal fright.
As if granted a Genie's wish, my chalkboard journey ends,
and it begins to erase from me.
Only bits of chalk dust are left from my nightly visitor,
I wake and for now, I'm free.