Beside the cozy fireplace, a chair
Sits patiently awaiting my return.
I’d give my first-born child to be back there
Instead I weep, as I will never learn.
Your cheery voice should warn me in advance,
Bright optimistic tales of camping fun.
I curse myself that I once had the chance
To walk away, or better yet, to run!
But tales of bonhomie and leafy walks
Made me forget that after day, there’s night
So here I quake and listen for what stalks
A camper much too terrified to fight.
Though you swear nothing in the darkness lies
Still, I can feel a thousand hostile eyes.
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