They’re coming

I run to the door
and bolt it shut.
Panting, I glance
to the windows.
They’re shut,
but
the shutters aren’t.
Slinking low,
I peak out.

Yes, there they are
marching down the street.
No shoes, all hair and hunger
I slam the shutters shut.

Some people dislike
dwarves
because they’re
rowdy, loudy,
and crude
But
as a hobbit
there’s nothing
I fear more
than
other’s second breakfast’s,
birthday’s,
or large families.
There’s nothing
I fear more
than
the hobbits coming.

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