Monster.

There’s a beast, a monster
Lurking all around.
He goes and slips into the night
In the dark never found.

 

There's bloodshed in his eyes
Memories of his better days.
Unthinking, unfeeling-
Merciless, his mind ablaze.

 

So load your guns and prepare to fight-
Shoot him dead, serves him right!
He’s a monster and he deserves to die!
Don’t question me, don’t ask me why.

 

There’s a beast, a monster
Lurking all around.
He goes and slips into the night
But for death, he is bound.

 

He’s me.
He’s me.
He’s me.
HE’S ME!

 

So grab your guns and prepare to fight-
Shoot him dead, serves him right!
He’s a monster and he deserves to die!
Don’t question me, don’t ask me why!

Author's Note

One of my more darkly ironic poems.

Reviews

[Sound]

Interesting. Reminds me of Frankenstein by Shelley. You give the "Monster" very human characteristics that almost makes you pity him. Very good write.

[David]

I didn't see that coming some how. Very good piece. Keep up the good work.
-dave-

[Rhan F. Sydney]

Very good work! Thank you for this submission

[Kenna]

I remember this one.
I think it's great. The rhythm's awesome, and it's a really good poem overall.