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My Life In A NutShell

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Its there When you’re sitting alone, And no ones home. Its cold. You look ahead; all is silent, white silence. You’re afraid to turn around. Afraid to move. Its there When you’re lying in bed. And the lights are out. The door is shut. You try not to breathe. Now your quiet, You can hear its footsteps And its cold breathes. You can’t see it But Its there When you’re at a funeral, Standing near the dead. You wish you could say you were the only person in the room, But you can’t believe it. You’re not the only thing, maybe the only human, but something else is in the room Right behind you! Snickering, Pointing its claws at you, laughing at your ignorance of its presence. You feel its eyes on you, So you jolt around to find Nothing but air! But let me tell you something you may not know ITS THERE

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