What’s that sound
down the hall?
Round and round,
through the wall.

Creakers creak
near your door.
Hear them sneak
on the floor?

Be afraid,
child abed,
till they fade
and their tread.

Here they come!
Hear them crawl!
They’re not dumb.
Soft footfall.

Through the dark
they creep near.
Hark, child, hark!
Dare you peer?

Creak, creak, creak,
through some vent.
Sneak, sneak, sneak,

Silent now.
Have they gone?
Heavy brow.
You then yawn.

Go to sleep…
Drift and dream…
Hear them creep!
Hear them scheme!

Rouse yourself!
Over there!
Near the shelf!
Oh, beware!

Close at hand,
‘neath the bed,
the nightstand,

Hide, child, hide,
under sheet,
tuck each side
and your feet.

They will stay
through the night,
till the day
brings some light.

Until then,
keep your head
covered when
in your bed.

If you see,
they will too,
do not flee,
they’ll catch you.

Hold your breath,
do not shake,
for your sake.

Night will end,
day will bloom,
just pretend
that your room

is a place
full of mice
in a race
or suffice

to believe
your house groans
eave to eave,
settling bones.

That’s the lie
parents say.
They deny
and they pray.

But they hear
Creakers creak
and they fear
what such seek,

as they did
in times gone
when Man hid
till the dawn

in caves cold,
dark and damp,
stone stronghold,
huddled camp.

Even then
Creakers crept,
stalking when
cavemen slept,

as they will
Creaking sill,
creaking floor.

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