In the evening things move about, my sight cannot see, when I wake to look, they all run and flee.
Such curious creatures, they never leave a trace, Just one glimpse is all I ask, to look upon a face.
They come not to hurt, helpers that come at night, my cat thinks something different, they always give him a fright.
I often leave them food, setting neatly on my table, now I know these little people exists, not just a child's fable.
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