I have this uncanny ability to scare myself, this poem is just one example.
There is a peephole in my door,
It was installed when I moved in.
Through it I can see the hall,
And neighbors as they come and go.
When someone knocks upon my door,
I can see them clear as day.
If it’s someone that I know,
Or strangers that I must ignore.
At night the lights, they all go out,
Outside my door, the hallway there.
I cannot see a single thing,
When I look through the peephole’s lens.
Sometimes when night is very dark,
And I look though the peephole there,
I wonder what I’d do or say,
If I saw movement in the hall.
A frightening shape that skulks about,
Barely seen there in the gloom.
And then the horror as I spy,
A pair of eyes that look at me…