Jack
He sits on my dresser,
waiting for me.
I look at the box, just have
to give it a pop.
Every time he comes out to
scare me.
I'm sure he winks at me.
Can't catch him, it's a
feeling I get.
Who's in there?
Did they put a soul in
there too?
Now I wait till I'm dressed,
because I'm sure he's
watching.
Jack is his name, as a
male has no shame.
We know what they do
undress you they will,
He doesn't need hands,
His eyes will do.
I turn him around ,
What do you know?
He's staring at me in the
mirror too.
I push him down,and in my
head I see him pop up
and smirk instead.
Copyright 2008
Anne Rutherford
Poems From the Heart.
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