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No burglars came again last night
Just as they failed to come the night before,
and for all the nights I can remember
No burglars yet again although I listened, as I always do, for them
Once more they did not oil and ease the rusty bolt that
holds the garden gate
Behind the shed beside the house
Nor did I hear them moving in the yard
at some hear-sobbing wretched hour
It was the ticking of a clock upon my wall
That sounded like the pad of evil steps a hundred feet away
They did not creep inside, their blind-from-birth brutality
reduced to stealth and whispers
They did not stand above me.
Were not there with threats and ugly promises, intoxicated
by the scent of fear incontinent
Nor did they then, with weapons that I meekly placed into
their hands, proceed to sever from my chilled insides the
screaming child who has evaded birth for so long now
They did not not come
They were not there again last night.
And what if they should never come?
Such a waste of nights
I might have slept
But if I had, I feel quite sure
They would have come
Those burglars – oh, yes, they would have come

From “Silences and Nonsenses – Collected Poetry, Doggerel, and Whimsy” by Adrian Plass. Published 2010 by Authentic Media
No copyright infringement intended, just thought this was a brilliant poem and wanted to share – will happily remove if requested.