The midnight club

In the quiet of the library,

Where storybooks and novels lay,

Teens gather round in eerie glory,

To share spooky tales and say:

“One time I heard a scratching noise,

Coming from beneath my bed,

I peeked under and to my surprise,

Two beady eyes met mine instead.”

Another chimes in with a tale,

Of a ghostly figure in the halls,

Whose moaning could be heard at night,

Filling hearts with icy snowballs.

As the stories become more chilling,

And the darkness creeps in closer by,

The teens huddle together, thrilling,

At the fear that makes them feel alive.

Yet, just as the tension grows,

A librarian suddenly appears,

Breaking the spell of the eerie flow,

And bringing daylight near.

With a sigh and a smile, they all disperse,

Back to the stacks and the tables,

Leaving behind the stories that they’ve heard,

And the thrill of being scared, if only for a short while.

it still and quite and the night is done