My Creepy Neighbor

My Creepy Neighbor

By Keira Martin

So there’s a nosy, creepy guy who lives across the street

He calls himself our “neighbor” but instead I call him creep.

Sometimes when I’m home alone, I hear his voice outside.

He comes to knock on the door and looks through the windows inside.

I lock the door and run upstairs so he won’t knock no more

But instead I hear the door knob moving; he’s trying to explore.

I gotta run, I gotta hide, I gotta call somebody!

He yells out loud, “Is anybody home?”

And I’ll just sit there, quiet.

This poem makes me...
  • Think (32%)
  • Smile (0%)
  • Somber (41%)
  • Surprised (18%)
  • Feel a Connection (9%)
  • Inspired (0%)