The man made of coats

A strange man is sitting in my chair,
I peek at him, anticipating his chilling glare
His silouhette blends with the dark
still, my little dog spots him and begins to bark
I reluctantly stare at this creepy sight,
unable to tear my eyes away, I make a dash for the light
I gaze with terror apon the chair only to laugh at my silly fears
For on the couch only lies a pile of coats - which had brought me so close to tears
Yet even though theres no one here I crawl up the stairs that are so steep,
because you never know what creatures the basement may conceal and keep