I've turned off all the lights.
The TV volume is down low
I
cower in its feeble glow.
Then comes the knock upon the door,
And I am trembling on the floor.
My heart is pounding, breath is shallow;
My mouth is dry, it's hard to swallow.
Tonight I live in mortal dread,
But not of bats or the Un-dead.
The fear that turns my heart to stone
Is Trick-or-Treaters who know I'm home.
Author Unknown
