I hate sleeping round my Aunties house,
'Cos I know he will be there,
Waiting for me,
Wanting me to scream,
He's always there,
Sitting on the landing,
Just next to the spare room,
Guarding the room intently,
He knows that every Saturday,
I'll be round to stay the night,
He can sense my anxious soul,
Creeping onto the landing,
His blue eyes widen in anticipation,
Awaiting my approach,
His red lipped smile grows,
From ear to ear,
As I approach the door,
My eyes are fixed on his shadow,
As it cascades down onto
The creaky wooden floorboards,
I slowly turn the door handle,
My gaze still fixed on the shadow,
Suddenly I here a loud shriek,
I run and shut the door behind me,
Slumped against the door,
I sense little trickles of sweat,
Run down my face,
And off my cheeks,
Once again I won't be able to sleep,
'Cos deep down I know,
He will be giggling to himself,
Over another victory,
I'd lie awake until morning,
When I knew I was safe,
From the clutches of Harry the Clown,
That permanently resides,
In my Auntie's house,
Awaiting my next visit,
