Yes monsters are real, she hears in her head,
Lying helpless crying, on her own little bed.
Maybe tonight the monster won't come,
Cause she just can't run, she just feels numb.
She stares up at the clock on her wall,
And listens for his footsteps, down the hall.
Dreading the creaking, of the door,
Sweat starts to run, from every pore.
Maybe tonight the monster won't come,
Who can she turn to? Not anyone.
Who would believe, about the monster man?
Who terrorizes her, with his great big hands.
No one would believe, such a dreadful thing,
The fear the night, almost always brings.
Yes monsters are real, and she can't get away,
She prays that night passes quickly, into day,
Her terror rises, she wants to scream,
Oh how she wishes, her nightmares were dreams.
Then she hears soft, footfalls outside,
And wishes that she, could run and hide.
She sees his face and she cries out her pain,
And hears herself say, 'please daddy, not again.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting approach juan I like it.