man with the black top hat
The man with the black top hat, anxiety man.
He came to my door, and shook my hand.
Said, fear is near, you must shed a tear.
You think this is bad, oh just wait a year.
I let him in, poured him tea.
He complimented me on my misery.
Said, “Darling, you’ll never be free.”
How he arrived, is a mystery.
I told him it was time to go.
The man with the hat said, no.
I need to sleep, I need some rest.
He wont go until my anxiety, is at its best.
Who are you? Do you exist?
“Only where loved ones are missed.”
He walked away an blew a kiss.
He cackled at my clenched fist.
I went to sleep with quite a delight.
Anxiety man was out of sight.
When I wake up, he’ll arrive again.
Just to lie and, say he is my friend.
I believe him and, I let him stay.
Because anxiety never goes away.
If anxiety were a person
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