The Hourglass

This horror poem was written in 1993.  It was accepted in 1995 for publication after my teacher helped me edit it. My father, thinking it was a “scam”, didn’t allow me to sign the authorization papers and send them back in..but being the hopeful writer – I still hold joy in the fact that something I wrote when I was 12 was good enough to be published.

Painting by Michael Whelan

The night grows dark around me

The hourglass runs low

The thing I see surrounds me

I have nowhere else to go

The thing I see grows nearer

I’ve nowhere else to go

The shape of it grows clearer

The hourglass runs low

The night grows bright around me

The shape before me clears

It’s him – the one who hurt me

 Author of all my fears

He laughs and tries to grab me

I’ve nowhere else to go

Screaming – I’ll never be free

The hourglass runs low

My thoughts – turn on a whim

I see what I’m here for

Blood everywhere – I killed him

Hourglass is no more.

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