Down the lane was a White House,
Better known as the haunted house.
As a child it did strangely arouse,
Curiousity, which could not be doused.

One day, curiousity got better of me,
And I sneaked out to see,
The ghost, that kept everyone away,
But still lingered in the minds, anyway.

An eerie silence spread across,
In two minds, I walk and come across,
The doorway covered with spooky cobwebs,
The door a squeaky, creaky mess.

As I enter, a chill runs down my spine,
A threatening suspense, about time.
Dreadful loneliness and darkness abound,
I hear someone scream and turn around.

A lanky figure obstructs my way,
I mumble and try to run away.
It holds me by my hand, so hard,
Numb with pain, I’m caught off guard.

I wake up with a terrible fright,
There is nothing but light, in sight,
I see my mother smiling by my side,
The shadow of the haunted house lingers on in my mind.