The Writers' Circle

There's someone in my house, 
and I know he has a knife.
I need to creep real slowly now 
so he doesn't take my life

I think I heard him enter 
from the window in my room.
Now I'm all alone with him, 
and this house will be by tomb.

I need to get away from him, 
maybe to the outhouse in the wood
But my legs don't work so well right now, 
and I don't know if I should.

I've seen so many horror films 
I really shouldn't go out.
For in the woods he'll slash me good, 
of that I have no doubt.

He's been down into the kitchen
for he left me there a note.
He says he's happy that pretty soon
he's going to cut my throat.

He wrote it neatly in fresh blood 
that he's walked across the floor.
It's from the remains of Tibbles.
that's the cat that lived next door.

I really don't know what to do
my terror is completed.
There no way with this serial killer
I really can not compete.

A seasoned killer with all his skills
Is impossible to defeat.
My body will be found cut up
and wrapped in a plastic sheet.

I need to get away from him
And find somewhere to hide.
And maybe if wait long enough
The police will be outside.

I decide upon the wardrobe
Stood near my parents bed.
I know its not the prefect place
but its better than being dead.

I slowly pull the door closed shut
after I climb silently inside.
Oh crap, there's someone in here too.
This will be the place I ..eeeeek!!!

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I dont know what has happened to me over the last few weeks.
I used to state that I dont do poems.
Now I'm not so sure.

This one is a piece of Horror poetry.
Based on the slasher movies.

Any comments would be welcome....

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