Footsteps

Footsteps. Pittering pattering, quite a bit chattering. Sometimes they're scattering sounds like a clattering. Footsteps. Sometimes they are growing, sometimes they are slowing. Where they are going is always unknowing. Footsteps. Outside of my door, across the wood floor. Now what's in store? I think I hear more. Footsteps. Coming in close, what I do not want most. The fear that they boast. Why'm I their host? Footsteps. Blatantly flaunting. Its me they are taunting, an eerily haunting. What are they wanting? Footsteps. Sneaking and creeping, they stop me from sleeping. As I see them peeping on my mind they are keeping. Footsteps. Watching and clocking, the sound of their walking. It sounds like they're talking. I'm sure they are stalking. Footsteps. I don't want them so. So why won't they go? Something I'll never know, and the maddening shall grow. Footsteps. Just go away, I don't want you to stay. Do you hear what I say? Not one more day. Footsteps Pounding my head, as I lay in my bed. I want peace just instead, every day this I dread. Footsteps. I don't want you, you see. Why's this happen to me? Please hear my plea, and just leave me be. Footsteps. I'd be fine on my own so leave me alone. The floors creak and they moan. My paranoia has grown. Footsteps. For too long this went on. Now my thoughts are all wrong. And my mind is all gone. Too much and too long. and the funny thing is. It was just a little mouse. A mouse all along.