There's a monster in the closet,
Cries her son,
Up from another sleepless night,
Afraid of the evil waiting in the closet.
The monster wants to get him:
The big, bad bogey man,
Lurking in the shadows,
Waiting to pounce.
But there is no monster,
Assures his mother,
It's just in your imagination,
And she reassures him every night,
Concerned for his emotional
Well being and happiness.
But every night,
He hears the closet door creak,
He KNOWS the monster is after him,
Wanting to eat him up,
And spit out the bones.
But time goes on and time forgets,
The monster in the closet:
At least for another generation,
But there may be truth to those claims:
Of monsters lurking, watching,
In the dark,
Waiting to eat up little children,
With their big, scary teeth,
And sharpened claws,
So beware children,
And always close the closet door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem