A stranger's standing at my door,
deep into the ungodly hours ringing my doorbell,
I pull back the covers and put off the lights,
always a pen knife sitting in my socks,
and pins in my hair,a clob by the upholstery,
by the window sits an axe kissed every night by the wind,sharpened by the rain,
Shadows float through my window while the branches dance and others standing akimbo,
I laugh 'cause they're my solitude instead of my horror,
my momma told me never to look through the peephole,
I had learnt a good lesson...