January 18, 2011
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Fear cowers behind his metal door
with one, two, three...

seventeen locks.

Always locked.


Shades always pulled down
no sun means no shadows
no shadows means no hiding
from said shadows.

Fear tiptoes through his house,
making sure not to walk under any
light fixtures or fans...
...because they may



He would wear a suit of armor
if he wasn't so afraid of the
metal on metal noises.

Fear never leaves his shack.
He doesn't even open the door when Peapod delivers
or when the mail comes
or when his neighbors knock.

He always promised himself he'd try to be less afraid
but even that idea incited anxiety in him...

Fear stayed huddled at his door, finally feeling fearless
enough to glide towards the kitchen
when he heard his neighbor outside
bellowing, “Hey Fear! I got a new puppy!”

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