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Haunted House

I tell her time and again that the house is haunted,
That its time to move on, but she doesn’t listen.
I look at our beagle and his eyes start to glisten, -
He scowls at me, grins and howls, undaunted.

As I walk up the stairs, there’s a man in the mirror,
He watches me calmly, without ever speaking.
I squeeze on the railing until it starts creaking, -
I rush to the bedroom, but still feel him near me.

She turns off the light and the walls become gray.
My whole body shakes as I lie down beside her,
And the black chandelier starts to sway like a spider,
Slowly stretching its tentacles towards the prey.

One day, I’ll convince her that it’s not in my head,
That I was telling the truth right from the onset,
That the painting frames change their colors at sunset,
And that a skeleton’s hidding under our bed.