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Lies of the Boogeyman
The Boogeyman’s a liar
he taps at windowpanes
the fear that he inspires
are but tree-limbed shadow-veins
His thunder rattles senses
his lightning shows me ghosts
his wind-howl rattles fences
but his silence scares the most
He waits for me to slumber
pacing my bed at night
at first birdsong of wonder
he vanishes from sight
Sunlight breaks his dominion
quite childish, as I look back
for its my adult opinion
he’s with me, in light or black
The Boogeyman is real, it seems
the liars, my own eyes,
I find grown-up peace in sleep-filled dreams
the birdsong terrifies
The Boogeyman that I despise
indeed, the very light I see
the darkness I surmise, I see
embedded inside me.
** *
Written for imaginary garden with real toads Boogeyman prompt, imagined By Rommy.
Hephaestus’ Waste & Cosmic Rubble 
Yes – as you may gather from my poem – I agree!
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Yes, our own darkness can be the biggest boogeyman.
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the cadence in this also reminded me of The Boogie Monster by Gnarls Barkley ~
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The idea of our own darkness being the boogeyman is haunting!
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Nice rhyme and meter. Silence is the scariest although in the movies they use some spooky background music just before the monster pops out at you. Since the boogeyman is in our imaginations he would sort of be inside of us.
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Yes yes… its the inside that is the worst…. so scary.
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Silence is indeed scary until the noises fill it…
Anna :o]
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I can sympathize with mornings being more dreadful as an adult, especially if one is anticipating a hard or hectic day at work.
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