Every night, before I sleep,
I hear the sound of the child weep,
I hear melancholy run deep
in the sound from my beneath.
Every night I wish to ease,
it’s pain, for it to be at ease,
But just like my fear fear of monsters beneath,
That don’t allow me to under, peep,
Does it too, have some under the crease?
Every night before I sleep,
I vow to end all its miseries,
By looking under my bed, fear be buried,
But, everyday, I fail spectacularly.
What stops me, the cry in its voice,
or the fear in mine, I have no choice
To help the tormented, I couldn’t start.
Who said anything about monsters under our beds,
when they live in our hearts?
(By the way, go follow TWPM at their instagram @theworldpastme for anything and everything.)