First, there is the way that I
Am scared of things with height.
Then there is how terrified
I feel when there’s no light.
Next, I hate the way that bugs
Somehow get in my house.
And do not get me started on
My fear of any mouse.
Clowns of every ilk and genre
Bring me to my knees.
And I don’t even like the tickle
Of a summer breeze.
Glowing candles cause me terror,
fearing conflagrations.
The thought of them unhinges me
And causes palpitations.
Bologna is another source
Of unrelenting fear.
All those germs! The slimy flesh!
Dead livestock, once held dear.
And what about the smell of sweat?
And all I must infer:
Body parts that are unclean
And loathesome and impure.
There’s so much strife that haunts my soul
In the world today.
I think that I’ll just stay inside
And play war games all day.
7/27/2026
The Words That Got to Me
'fearing conflagrations. The thought of them unhinges me And causes palpitations.' I loved the delicious near-rhyme here - a lovely play on words. 'Bologna is another source Of unrelenting fear.' This made me laugh as this was definitely one of my phobias when I was younger - it took me years to train myself to cope with the look and texture of that mince! Still not a chosen dish.
This struck me as a slick and very clever poem - I loved the sense of fun underlying the very real terrors that can plague our sense of calm and well-being. The last part made me stop and think - yes, it's true, we avoid many 'terrors' but then plunge ourselves into horrible, violent activities or viewing. Human beings are very strange.