For those of you who enjoyed Hitchcock or The Twilight Zone

Sinister Situations

What lurks behind

Boarded up

Windows

Of the decrepit house

On your street

Or down your lane?

As you pass

The Victorian

Asylum,

Can you hear

The crackling voltage

Of the insane

Or the whispering

Of the dead?

The magic shop

On the high street,

With its heavy duty

Padlock and chain

Reminds you of a black and white

Episode of The Twilight Zone.

The basement of the multi-storey

Car park screeches

With the echoes of ancient cars,

Is daubed with stains

Of oil or blood.

Will the graveyard

Always be so peaceful?

The photograph is of an old asylum in Tooting, South London where my great grandmother ended her days. I found it on www.28dayslater.co.uk.

This is a found poem, thanks to The Equinox Society.