window poem hoppers house

I’m looking in. Seeing the stained blue walls, Of a kitchen. Outdated. To the left of the kitchen, Lay a body of a man On the rotting floor. Motionless, dead. Just like the air that settled Around me. Everything about this Scene looks wrong, The blood pooling out. Covering the floor. Red. I got this feeling as if I shouldn’t be here, But my feet wouldn’t move My eyes wouldn’t budge. I’m always watching, Always waiting for Something Guess this was it. The crickets started to chirp As the sun descended As it watched me Looking in to the dreary house. I heard the humming of a lullaby far behind me, I turned around quickly And saw it standing far way, I couldn’t make out exactly who or what It was, but I knew it was there And I knew I was next.