Can't we just talk?
Wakeful and waiting
Feeling of dread
Anticipating
It’s not in my head
Fearing and hating keep alternating.
There is a monster under my bed.
First, I deny it
This cannot be
Next, I decry it
Surely, not me
Then I defy it, get angry whereby it
Shifts and I cower, tremble and plead
This situation
Is breaking my mind
No explanation
No hope there to find
But..inspiration, communication
Reaching for paper I dash off a rhyme
My rhyme is reflected
“We must not write.
I am unprotected
Night after night
In darkness, dejected, assault is expected
Fearing the creature that lives in the light.”
Grasping the warning
The poem is read
Aching and yawning
Daylight has spread
Birdsong and morning
A terrible dawning.
I am the monster over my bed.