Who's There?

Who's there?

Knock Knock.
Who’s there?
Oh god, please no.
I need to run, I have to go.

What fearful presence lurks outside?
What makes me want to flee and hide?

My hand reaches reach out, involuntarily,
The door creaks as it opens, warily.

It swings aside and reveals the apparition,
hunched there with a dreary disposition.

A tiny old crone, her face all warts,
I almost soil my boxer shorts.

She lunges forwards, her are lips pursed,
She connects with my face, I have been cursed.

I feel my heart sink deep, then die,
as she fixes me with her evil eye.

“Hello Bryan, where is Danielle?”
Her voice broils up and stinks of hell.

I stumble, stutter, I just can’t talk.
She shoves me aside and in she walks.

“Well, well, this place is as bad as before.
There’s dirt all over the laminate floor.”

“And look at the state of the decoration.
I tell you Bryan, it’s an abomination.”

Once again I’m stuck for words.
Overwhelmed by the odour of stale turds.

Why does this woman scare me so?
She tiny and frail, I just don’t know.

She has this fearful way of being.
She instantly stops me from seeing,

that my life hasn’t gone terribly.
Not only that, she reeks of pee.

The caustic stench makes my eyes sting,
And then there is that other thing.

I’m forced to fake that I like her.
If I didn’t, she’d run off to confer,
with Danielle.
Then they’d both concur,
that I am just no good for her.

So I’d be alone,
thanks to the withered claw,
Of my vicious, satanic mother-in-law.