Under The Bed

A poem about childhood fears.

UNDER THE BED

Mum and dad tell me it doesn’t exist
They tell me it’s all in my mind
Then, why can I feel it reach for my wrist
And tug on the covers behind?
The room goes cold, the light flickers out
Strange little taps can be heard
My parents are sleeping, there’s no one about
I don’t breathe and I don’t say a word.

I pull the quilt up right over my nose
My head now begins to sweat
What the hell just brushed past my toes?
I’m beginning to sense a threat.
Something poked my mattress just then
It came from under the bed
I dare not call my parents again
And get told it’s all in my head.

Mum would come in and say, ‘There’s nothing there, look.’
Then bend down and lift up the sheets
‘Maybe it’s because you read that scary book’
Is the next line I bet she repeats.
Well, of course it’s not there when it knows that you’ll check
It’s probably hiding elsewhere
But it will surely come back when I least expect
And in the morning you’ll find me nowhere.