This poem was written by me about 25 years ago for my god-daughter’s school project. It holds fond memories for us, and now her own three girls. Dare you read it all alone. ┬áHaunted House I think there’s something moving, over by that chair But when I take a closer look it seems there’s nothing there Look something shot across the room, that gave me such a fright I hate being at home alone, especially at night And now there’s something creaking, it’s the bedroom door Oh I really hate this house, I’m not staying anymore I know that i’m…

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