Poetry Blog by Wayne McLellan (end rhyme)
The Silent Scream
Hall clock, tick tock
front door, knock knock
turn of handle, unlock.
She lies in bed, unawares
footsteps, creaking stairs
back of neck raised hairs.
She sensed a presence next to bed
fear, panic, a sense of dread
afraid to breathe or raise her head.
She feels a hand around her waist
and smells his breath against her face
it's stale, unclean and alcohol based.
He's here to harm...
Saturday 15th June 2019 12:49 am
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