late night guilt
stepping in front of my room
maybe they caught me
phew, it was my
bed creaking
steps came closer
oh no, they might catch me
only to realise it is but
the wind knocking on the
old rusty trees
the steps stop
then, on the old wooden planks they
approach once again
ah it's nothing, i'm sure
the door opens and with it
the disappointed, sleepy gaze
of the higher beings
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