Original Poem: The Monster Lies on The Bed

Written By Phillip Garrett

The Monster lies on the bed

The bed sheets run red

The floorboards, covered in its meds

Come to me, Child, for you are now dead.

Don't be afraid

Don't try to fight

Your decision seemed right

Come to me, Child, release your pain, your throat seems tight.

Lay down your harms

Pray for those left behind

Let go of those things in your mind

Come to me, Child, your arms are mine to bind.

Your pain was not yours to bear

Instead, your pain is not rare

What is my name? Say it if you dare

Come to me, Child, lay by my throne.

Red like your eyes, my fire lies

Your choice, that bed left behind

And yet you called yourself kind

So come to me, Monster, let us dine.

This is the first poem I've formally written outside of my personal journals since high school. Thanks to my best friend for inspiring me to start actually putting some poems out there.