By Middle-School Blogger Poet Penny Andreas

As the clock hand reaches for twelve,

And the chimes gong in the silent night, 

When all you hear is the echoes of bells, 

He awakens, by my side. 

He has no body, only hands with string;

He controls your brain when you have no thoughts, 

But he’s the one that awakens them, 

And makes sure they don’t rot. 

The deepest sleep, when he plays with your mind

He makes these scenarios, places them in our head,

Makes people chase you, with nowhere to hide, 

 Then comes that next night, to play them again. 

He creates the nightmares, the dreams too. 

And it’s not only me; He’s also beside you.