The Monster Living Under My Bed

There's a monster, living under my bed.
And I lay so still, tucked tightly under
The sheet uncreased with tension against my chest,
Daring not to look anywhere but up.

In the mornings I wake with caution,
and sneak with silence across the room.
For that monster I know still dwells
Under my bed.
And I do what the day asks of me.
In the grinning sun I forget for a while,
I go untamed and with a smile.
I stroll about sidewalks and lawns,
And breeze past those yawning sleeps yawns
And I am happy.

But the sun never fails to set down
Its flaming soul, somewhere far from me,
Leaving behind a cold, damp dark.

And that monster is still under my
Sprawling body.
I can feel it there in its intangible presence,
So devastatingly close,
Despite the barrier of my bed.

It can be subdued, for a while at least,
But it will never depart my haunted head.