Monsters Aren’t Always Under The Bed

As the sun goes down in quaint, sleepy little town

The streetlights shiver themselves alive from daybreak

Doors slam as children race the approaching dark home

Inside through the looking glass of life lamps awake

TV’s blare and suppers are taken from the oven to the table

Babies are bathed, stories are told, newspapers read.

Beds turned down, kids tucked in, stories are told

All is calm all is well no monsters beneath the bed

Lights are out then the monster wakes and walks the halls

Pitiful whimpers ignored as in the silence a vile caress

Insanity rules alone in the palace of Cinderella’s dreams

Unholy father steals the innocence of a crinoline dress

Sun comes up to tear-dried cheek crying on a  pillow

Smile pretty for Daddy kiss him goodbye on his way out

Mommy makes the lunches sends her off to school

Another night, another mauling that’s what her life’s about.