FRIGHTENED TO MOVE ON CHRISTMAS EVE...

Frightened To Move On Christmas Eve…

It was as if my lung 

Was being plucked

Like an acoustic guitar string

When every minute or distant sound

Invaded

And raided

My darkened, chilled room.

It was as if my heart

Was being beaten

Like a slow drum of war

As each muffled or indistinct undertone

Injected

And infected

My solitary, winter gloom.

It was as if my mind 

Was being tormented

Like an abandoned child’s

For every excruciatingly drawn-out moment

Frustrated

And dictated

My placid, fearful isolation.

It was as if my soul

Was being mesmerised

Like an hypnotised patient’s

For each second hung deceptively

Timeless

And helpless

As my timid, shrinking desperation…

Pete Ray

I was terrified to move or make a sound, in case my father admonished me in his tone of loud anger, which frightened me so much. 

I could not get to sleep because Santa was due. 

Even when I realised that my parents deposited my gifts at the bottom of my bed, the fear still returned…

RICKY, MY CAT, WOULD HAVE MADE A BETTER SCHOLAR, I RECKON...