A DAY WITHOUT SYMPATHY

I awoke in the morning; I fell out of bed,

A bad headache but no aspirin for my head.

I went for a cup of coffee but only an empty jar,

Maybe some toast but the butter was at the store.

I went to get the paper in a puddle of mud,

The dog chewed up my shoes. What am I to do?

Got dressed and headed for the car, off to work I’ll go,

The car wasn’t there, stolen wouldn’t you know.

Went to call the police, locked myself out of the house,

Headed for the bus stop, watched the bus drive on by.

I flagged down a cab, please get me to work,

No wallet in my pocket, I gave him my watch.

I walked through the door, fearing I was so late,

This is your day off, you don’t work today.

No way home so I put out my thumb,

No one would stop, I walked all the way.

I had no key, Oh! what a day,

I broke the window, the door was open all the way.

My T.V. was gone, the phone did not work,

Nothing to eat, time for some sleep.

I went to my room, the bed was gone,

A day without sympathy, on the floor I did lie.

 Keith Garrett

     I SAW YOU AGAIN

I moved away to a new place where life would change,

Different streets with different names, a distance away.

I was walking along on a cool, autumn day, a shadow displayed,

Dark as most shadows are, except this one carries a memory.

There was not a body there, but a chill ran up my back so fast,

The feeling was uneasy as I went to bed that night, thoughts of fright.

I felt not alone in my new home, a dream once before was again here,

I stepped into the dark as I awoke in the night; the wind echoed loud.

Through the living room I moved toward the window, a remembered feeling,

The fear was felt; I was scared, but I knew what was waiting outside in the night.

I peeked out the window as once I did before, the wind howling through the trees,

Just as I dreamed more than once before, a being dressed in a robe and mask of black,

He knows that I am inside watching; he stands there in the windy darkness.

I saw you again just as you were seen in my sleep; you visit me without a reason to be,

Darkness without a face, you wander in silence within dreams, mostly in many a dark place.

                                      Keith Garrett

            WHEN THE HILLS ARE ALIVE

There’s a town that sits down below, at peace most of the time,

Family and friends, life goes on as not a soul speaks of a curse.

It seems forgotten, blocked from their minds until Fall arrives,

The days grow shorter, and the hills above darken earlier with shadows.

Many leafless trees, the wind howls through that which is alive,

When a certain October night appears, make sure you’re not outside.

Not sure why this town doesn’t die, each year a nightmare comes to life,

When the hills are alive on an October night, a town disappears a little from fright.

What’s out there that roams from high in the night, the horror is felt at many bed sides

Doors are locked, windows bolted down, be there at home when the light says good night,

When the hills are alive for just one night, pray hard and be quiet until morning’s light.

                             Keith Garrett

You are somewhere, everywhere, and here; they do not know,

You can not be seen, not by me, but I know that you are there.

This came upon me one day in a fast way, an accident for me,

A curse or gift we will see; I am afraid of that which cannot be seen.

I can hear you, thought I was losing my mind, voices in my head,

You are in between here and there; you speak to me as I do not see.

You are all around; I hear you as your sound echoes throughout,

I can hear you; you do see me. It is you who cannot be seen.

Keith Garrett

      IF YOU COME TO MY HOUSE

Beware of what you can not yet see, that which is hidden,

Stepping beyond this darkened doorstep will be the end.

So sorry if you must be the ones, delighted I am, truthfully,

On this night of make-believe fright, tonight is reality.

Walk through my home; if I let you leave, then fear will follow you home,

Down in my basement, cages made, chains and shackles, do you believe?

You think this is a show, fun for an October night, I know what’s real,
What’s in sight,

You can’t imagine that this is for someone like you, I’ve seen this before, yes,
It’s true.

A tour now, up to an attic, blood stains and old bones on the floor, a foul smell indeed,

Table in the corner, straps from end to end, you have no idea, but I’m not your friend.

Let’s go outback where a scene of fright fills this night, open the door, step inside,

Down the stairs, you can’t believe your eyes, turn around as I’m nowhere to be found,

You are now in the dark, the door is locked, have a good night, be careful, they bite.

                               Keith Garrett

         A WAND OF MAGIC

In hand, a wand would make me a magic man,

Not even a word and crime would disappear.

I could stop time, rid the world of trash or pollution,

Take away the sick waters of rivers and oceans.

Murder on our land would be stopped with a hand,

The ill would be no more, cancer but a memory.

I could run fast or jump high,

A tear would be one less for all of mankind.

The cruel slaughter of creatures in the world,

With a wave from my hand, this would end.

A wand of magic need not be that of evil,

For love and good, the hand that holds this wand.

A wand of magic is not to be real,

We can wish, hope, and pray that it all goes away.

               Keith Garrett                                                     

A traveling locomotive on a course bound for nowhere.

Never does it stop; a sound heard echoing in the night.

Where it started is a story unknown; where it’s headed,

No ending be told.

Dark and quiet except for the whistling in the night and

The rumbling train.

To look into the windows there’s not a thing, a person to see.

When again it comes back around, then a closer peek there will be.

The dead train becomes its name, no way to stop it, why that name?

It disappears, and then it’s seen roaring down some railroad tracks.

Never a face, no one walking around, no engineer guiding this train.

The lights flash from the darkness when it sees me watching.

A first stop it will make since last year’s fatal day.

I’m taking a trip, my ticket in hand,

All aboard! yells the conductor, the dead train takes me away.

Keith Garrett

       UNDER THE BRIDGE

It’s a bad path you take when under the bridge you go,

Let there be no slip or fall; it’ll be the end of you.

He’s so ugly and mean, a shade of green,

Hungers for the flesh, a taste he seeks.

His teeth so sharp, a foul smell to his breath,

Eyes like saucers, horns on his head.

Hands so big, his nails razor sharp,

Feet of a monster, toes that curl up.

A sound he makes, so disgusting to the ear,

It will make your skin crawl; out comes the fear.

Bones all around as he’s eaten many who cross his ground,

Under the bridge, this horrible troll lives.

                                Keith Garrett

  UNDER A FULL MOON

Beware on this night as you stroll along,

It’s cold and dark; the screeching cry echoes.

Through the hills, into the misty night woods,

He’s out there under a full moon, angrily searching.

If you see his shadow beyond the trees,

Then run, as fast and far as it may be too late.

The smell of your fear lingers in the air,

His thirst for the blood, for the flesh most wanted.

The howling under the moon will be a life-saving clue,

Your path is studied; your only escape is behind locked doors.

Your only safety may be the rising sun as dawn approaches,

On this moon-risen night he becomes the beast.

He feels no remorse, no heart to be found,

Under a full moon he stalks the living.

He is a killer in the moonlight,

Under a full moon he is not kind.

                       Keith Garrett

       HORRIBLE HOUSE

There’s a horrible house with horrible things,

It’s deep in a forest where there live horrible people.

Horrible thoughts from horrible minds,

Horrible deeds, horrible crimes.

Don’t go to the door, you’ll never escape,

If you see their horrible faces, your screams will echo into the night.

A horrible place, horrible for you to discover,

What horrible things they’ll do for dinner.

Stay away from this horrible house,

Horrible things will surely happen to you.

The horrible house has had many visitors,

They walked through the forest and did not escape

Those horrible faces in that horrible house.

Keith Garrett