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Poem

I got off the bus after a hard day at work
A storm had knocked out every street light
In the gloom of despair, I saw a shadow lurk
My fear of darkness reached a new height

Two blocks to walk until I'd reach my home
but oh, how my fright was filling me with dread
I suffered from an illness called, Stygian Syndrome
Fear that on a dark night I would end up dead

There's never been an algorithm that's predicted
when I'd be exposed to a scary night such as this
I swore a maledict while my heart was conflicted
wondering why I didn't run. Something was amiss

It seemed as if an evil force was holding me back
from taking a step in the direction I needed to go
I couldn't see or hear anything in a world of black
but sensed something wicked hovered near... a foe

My house was the last one on the dead-end street
Should I try to get there without making a sound,
or should I go the other way? I wanted to retreat
but didn't move before I was knocked to the ground

I fought off a hundred creatures who bit my flesh
Every inch of my body was torn, and I smelled blood
I wished I had the courage and power of Gilgamesh!
But if compared to that hero, I'd label myself a dud

I wiggled my fingers and toes... counted ten and ten
Afraid to move again, I doubled up in a fetal position
Streetlights flickered; I saw I was surrounded by men
When someone yelled, "CUT!" I had a sneaky suspicion

A horror movie being filmed, but how was I to know
that everything was staged on my dead-end street?
I was paid for my realistic acting and used the dough
for a shrink and a weekend at a sanity recovery retreat

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