Photo by: alex Iby They call him the Boogy Man. They whisper his name, Afraid he'll hear. They hide when he comes. They shake as he reaches from under the bed. They pull their covers over their heads. The lucky ones cry all night. The unlucky ones never get the chance to cry. He comes for you. You cry and shiver, Hoping he doesn't reach you. He leaves with the sun and you sigh with relief. He came for me once. I waited for him. He learns a truth. He spreads fear, But he knows nothing of being afraid. He doesn't come for me anymore.