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AT MIDNIGHT by Karin Johnson

At midnight alone a man walked

down a darkened street.

"Nothing will hurt me," he said

as his heart picked up a beat.

The wind was blowing leaves around

as he passed the old dark house

And the old broken gate in the front

was screeching like a mouse.

He saw the light in the window,

he couldn't believe his eyes!

"No," he thought, "It's got to be a

prankster in disguise."

He'd heard the stories of this old house,

and thought them just a lie.

But he couldn't help but believe in them

as his feet carry him by.

Of the old man who used to live in the house,

whose ghost follows you home with his light,

And kills you without a second thought

or a scream in the dark of the night.

And then he saw it! The candle moved

and started descending the stairs.

He started to run, faster and faster

pretending that it wasn't there.

He got to his house, unlocked the door

and looked back as he walked in

There was nothing there except for the sound

of the ever blowing wind.

As he shut the door behind him

he breathed a heavy sigh.

"How could I be so stupid, so dumb

I could almost cry?"

As he turned to go upstairs

he glanced in the mirror to his right,

Behind him in the reflection he saw

the glow of a ghostly candlelight.