The Monster

There were monsters of comically, outrageous arrangements
Of hands, legs, and arms, and weapons of containment.

I sat there just looking, not sure what to do
Until one of them saw me and said, “Who are you?”

I sat up fiercely and strongly, I said,
“I’m my mother’s worst nightmare, and no I’m not dead.”

The monster was puzzled why I brought up a death.
I knew he was a killer, I could smell it on his breath.

“Now, now, little person. I’m not after you.
I’m after that bad man who cursed you at two.”

“Well, you’re on the wrong foot, that bad man is dead.
And, hey, by the way, why are you holding your head?”

“Oh, I have had this damn pain for a fortnight of years,
It pounds on my head just behind my two ears.”

By this time, I was feeling a little less scared,
I thought, this monster was less mean than he dared.

“Oh monster, I wish, I had an answer for you,
But, I had those headaches for 14 years too.”

We puzzled together and exchanged magic cures.
Then, the monster stopped growling which saved all my nerves.

I looked at him closely. He looked back at me.
Then, he crawled back under my bed,
And we both went to sleep.

So, when I am frightened, I look them up close
And, I find that my fears are just memories of ghosts.

Joceile 7/30/07