An Old Friend

Yes, I know Dread.
He is an old friend of mine.
At times, he’s rather creepy
And sends goosebumps up my spine
He says he’s only mine
That his heart belongs to me
But I’m not sure if that’s true
It’s just not what I see
For Dread flirts with all my friends
He shows up at their doors
Surprising them in the night
Slamming shut their doors
Rattling their beds
He keeps them up all night
But remember–Dread is a friend
Not a LOVER of theirs or mine.

I can’t say I see him much.
But lately, he visits more.
I have trouble telling him no.
I’ll let him spend the night on my floor.
And even when he sleeps soundly
I’ll find myself up all night
Staring at his steady breathing
Wondering how he sleeps so tight

So yes, I know dread.
And Dread certainly does know me.
I just hope that as days go by,
Our sordid affair will cease.
You know what they say of old friends…
But I’m finding more and more
That it is better to leave your gold
Behind a plethora of locked doors.

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