I creep to the attic

Of my new home

What wonders will I find?

A severed doll head

The body long misplaced

Old jewelry

Forced upon a tom boy

Dreams of mommy’s little one dead

Ancient clothes

Too musty for goodwill

But too interesting for a landfill

Probably just rat droppings

An angry pigeon or two

I should have brought a flashlight

It’s dark in here

But nothing can harm me

Monsters aren’t real

What’s that sound?