The Goblin

The face in the mirror, Is it yours alone? Can you find yourself, In the fog? Or is he just out of sight, Only to appear, when you slowly Turn your eyes to see of he is near? Is it possible to feel shadows? The ones that, Creep across the walls And slide their long cold fingers Down the back of our necks, Making the finest hairs stand on end? The unintelligible whispers that crawl Into your ear traveling down to the Pit of your stomach, Forcing you to awaken in a cold sweat. Who or what is there and what do they Want? The childhood goblin that slept in your closet, Slid and hid beneath your bed Just to rise at your feet, And tickle your toes. Has he grown with you? Steering you steps and Guiding Your hands through fear. Do you hear him? Do you listen?